


these lines of lightning mean we're never alone (never alone)

by isasolan



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Burns, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Foe Yay, Force Bond (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Irreverence, Leia Dies, Mental Instability, Mostly M, Movie: Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Rating for later chapters, SO MUCH FLUFF, Self Confidence Issues, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Supreme Leader Ben Organa, The Force, Virgin sex, balance, finn/rose in the background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-02-23 04:06:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13182012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isasolan/pseuds/isasolan
Summary: After the battle of Crait, Rey must find a way to grow stronger in the Force. Her bond with Ben is less of a hindrance than she expected. As she learns from the old Texts, and he tries to run his new Empire, perhaps they may find a way to become reconciled, and end the senseless war. Rey POV.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my head since I watched TLJ, so here it goes. Not my usual fandom, and I'm unfamiliar with any lore not explicitly shown in OT or PT. (Title is from Counting Crows - Accidentally in Love.)

* * *

 

 

Rey tells no one about it.

 

It's one thing to admit being naïve. That she'd heard, growing up in a land of wanderers, stories from the Rebellion, whispers from the fall of an Empire, songs for the Heroes, songs of Hope. That when she left Ahch-To she'd thought she would be heroic herself, and had foolishly boarded the Supremacy to confront their greatest enemies, bursting full with hope. That in that moment she'd believed, with all her heart, than there was still some good left in Ben Solo, that he had not yet chosen. (She was wrong.)

 

It's another thing entirely to admit, after he's sworn their utter destruction at his hand, after Luke's death, after all that's happened… that their bond still exists. That Snoke was wrong, and that whatever twisted horror that joined her in the Force with the man pursuing them relentlessly still persists. The Resistance is her family. The only one she's ever known. When she chose them over whatever madness his offer entailed, she'd thought it would be the end of it. (It wasn't.)

 

She still feels his imprint in the Force, not as clearly as she used to, but his presence, his anger, and his grief are known to her, orbiting around her, traveling across solar systems and across the Galaxy in a blinding pulse of light. As if those emotions were hers. It's a dangerous balance, recognizing them as his and not absorbing them as hers despite how much they resonate with her. That would make her a monster, too, in a way. Wouldn't it? Could they ever forgive this? Could Finn? Could General Organa? Could they ever understand?

 

Her presence, tethered to him in a monstrous link, is danger to all of them.

 

_She_ is a danger for all of them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first time it happens after Crait is a thoroughly unpleasant experience.

 

They've landed after days of hyperjumping from one system to another, hoping to lose their pursuers. The First Order ship capable of hypertracking was destroyed, but it is only a matter of time until they activate it again, so General Organa stressed the need to be land-borne as swiftly as possible. Ideally, she said, somewhere that would allow them lay low for months, maybe even years, to rebuild alliances from the ground up. And to rest. The Idogorian system is friendly enough to grant them some much needed respite to grieve their enormous losses.  

 

_So many lost_ , Rey thinks, staring out at the endless ocean of the planet they've landed on. The planet Ahuen lies on the outer edge of its star, a cold, unforgiving tundra surrounded by an enormous ocean. Large bodies of water still make her uneasy, but the ocean reminds her of Luke – bittersweetness rather than grief. He is inside the Force now, somehow. She's felt that. Rey kicks off one of her boots to dip a toe in the water. It's nearly freezing, but she doesn't mind. It's grounding. She kicks off her other shoe and sits on the cold sand, legs outstretched to let the waves lick her feet. It seems so peaceful here. Impossibly peaceful knowing that somewhere in the stars, war is still bleeding the Galaxy dry.  She lets out a few slow, calming breaths. There's no war here. There's only the ocean.

 

She's just managed to calm herself enough when time comes to an abrupt halt around her. Where there was sound now there is silence, and the air is still, frozen, the Universe holding its breath as the Force wills them together. She knows he's there. Her stomach twists. _No_. Not here. Rey wills her mind to sever their bond, like she did before leaving Crait, but nothing happens, save a suffocating strain sending waves of pain across her body. He is still there somewhere behind her, though she refuses to turn. She closes her eyes tightly. She doesn't want to see him. But she needs no eyes to sense his stubborn presence _. Don't let him see where you are_ , she begs herself, the physical ache of rejecting their link making her dizzy. _Don't let him see anything_. He'll see for certain that she is dressed warmly, perhaps he could infer…

 

"What do you want?" she snarls, hoping to distract him. "Go away."

 

He stays silent for so long she is tempted to turn and see what it is that he's doing. He hasn't moved any closer. He is watching her; that she knows at least. His intent glare burns the back of her neck, as if he were zeroing on that particular spot behind her ear, marking her. Branding her. A traitor.

 

"You know what I want," he answers, at last. "But I cannot control this any more than you do."

 

"I don't care! I don't want to hear you. I don't want to feel you. I never want to speak with you again."

 

"Then don't," he says, brutally.

 

"I'm trying to. Let go of me!"

 

"You ruined everything, Rey!"

 

She rolls her eyes when he shouts that, and just as she turns to face him, the vision ends.

 

The freezing waves of Ahuen have made her toes turn blue.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

He is sleeping the next time he appears to her.

 

Rey has taken it upon herself to make a lightsaber from the one that was broken on the Supremacy, but she has yet to figure the mechanism that powers it. There is a crystal trapped on the inside of the metal hilt, along with what is left of the switch to ignite it. What seems to have been a power grid, or a matrix of sorts, has been sliced in half. The crystal glows a faint blue when Rey concentrates enough. That, at least, is progress. She had hoped Luke's books would provide a clue about how to repair one, or build one, but they are filled with characters (letters? pictures?) she cannot read, in an ancient tongue no droid has been able to translate - C3PO apologizes over and over again about it. General Organa knows little of her brother's teachings. The Force is unusually silent when she questions it. So it's just Rey. Just Rey, to figure out how to craft herself a weapon and prepare for a battle she actually dreads.

 

Little by little, survivors have been trickling down on Ahuen, drawn by General Organa's silent summons. They are nowhere near the numbers they once had, but it's not as dreary as it was when only the handful of them could fit on the Falcon. The new base has been established in what used to be an old bunker some centuries earlier, a chunky, angular building wrought with primitive materials. The floors are made of stone; the rooms are heated by peat harvested in the northern parts of the continent. They only have the bare necessities, and they must rely on their ships for outwards communication, or any semblance of technology. Rey's quarters amount to little more than a desk and a bed in a bare, grey cell that rather looks like a prison - if it weren't for the vines stubbornly growing on the inner walls. A white flower blooms and withers periodically with the planet's standard orbit, replaced immediately by one of its sisters. It's the warmest place in miles, the plants have got nowhere else to grow. A bit like them, perhaps.

 

Rey is sitting on her bed with her legs crossed under herself, holding the saber's crystal as she tries to clear her mind like Luke had briefly shown her. And instead of the answers about the Light she so desperately needs, the Force shows her Kylo Ren.

 

He is asleep on a surface she cannot see, but can only assume it's his bed. A dark blanket covers his lower body. He is lying on his side, bare-chested, with one arm under his head. His other hand grips an object so tightly his knuckles are white. A knife. He is holding a knife in his sleep. Rey lets out a shaky breath. She'd like to look away, but she finds that she cannot. She _knows_ the knife is about Luke. All of Ben's body is relaxed but for his iron grip on the small weapon where all of the Darkness of the Force concentrates, sifting out of his fingertips and into his mind like an intangible trail of sand. His eyes are moving under his eyelids. He must be dreaming. Rey steps closer cautiously. The sounds are gone, like every time this has happened, but she can hear her own heart, thumping fast, reverberating all over her chest.

 

What must it have been like, for Luke, when he stood like this in front of a sleeping Ben? Rey saw that scene both in his memories and in Ben's, clearly enough to picture how it must have unfolded. But she does wonder what it is that Luke saw when he reached into his nephew's mind. She's been in there, too, but not nearly long enough to see for herself. If she reached now, would she see what Luke saw? But if she reaches, will Ben not wake up? There's something dreadfully uncomfortable in watching him sleep like this, vulnerable and exposed. And yet...

 

It would certainly be easy, wouldn't it.

 

He would go without a fight. It would be the end of it all – Rey is certain that Kylo Ren is the only one capable of finding them. Not because she underestimates the tools the First Order might use to track them down, but because of herself, and the liability she has become for the Resistance. It's only a matter of time until Ben tears down the walls she has tried to build in her mind to stop him from knowing where she is. If she killed him... Her mind aches at the thought, a physical pain that knocks the breath out of her, but she forces herself to finish that thought. If Rey killed him, the terrible conflict would at last come to a halt. It would give the Resistance a chance to grow strong again, and in time, to overthrow the militarized fanatics wreaking havoc. If the First Order has no Force users, the Resistance may yet have a chance. But if they have Kylo Ren...

 

Could she even do it? They touched hands when light years apart. She could probably constrict his airway, if she concentrated enough. No, no, that is horrible. She would die herself if she did it, the certainty of it has her doubling in half with pain. Rey steadies herself, dizzy with the thoughts still racing through her head, but the more she tries to calm down the more agitated she becomes.

 

No, she cannot. She will not. This is dishonorable. (Foolish.) She will find a way to make a lightsaber, and she will meet him in battle. She will kill him, or he will kill her – the notion makes a sob catch in her throat, and Ben's eyes fly open.

 

She feels his panic bursting through the Force, raw, explosive fear sucking the air around her. Ben lashes out, throwing the knife at her though his eyes are still sleepy. It obviously does not cross over to her plane of existence, but she sees that it was headed straight for her heart. He wouldn't have missed. Along with the throw, however, comes a blast of Force so strong it slams her against the wall. She knocks over her desk with the impact, scattering books, tools, and the half of the lightsaber that once belonged to Luke. The crystal, now glowing a furious red, rolls on the floor and comes to rest at her feet. In a flash, she becomes aware of other weapons in his room, the blaster on the night table, his lightsaber by the wall.

 

"Ben!" she shouts. "It's me! It's only me."

 

"Rey?"

 

Though he sounds more awake (more _aware_ ), she can still feel his fear radiating through the Force, fear, anger and distrust.

 

"I didn't want to wake you," she says, voice strangled. "I didn't want to see you."

 

"You wanted to kill me. Like Luke."

 

"No," she says. "No."

 

Ben says nothing. He stares at her. Rey pushes her resolve not to kill him to the front of her mind, hoping he'll believe her. He's sitting up now, the blanket having slipped somewhere she cannot see. His thighs... She's never seen his bare legs, though she had grazed him, so very briefly, while they were fighting together. This is the most state of undress she has ever seen him in, his black underwear leaving little to the imagination. Rey wonders, absurdly, if every piece of clothing he owns is black. She feels Ben's mood shifting to amusement.

 

"No," he answers, at ease despite his awkward smirk.

 

"Get out of my head," she warns, mortified.

 

He is still agitated, she can feel it. Hovering over him while he slept was not a terribly smart idea, was it. Once, in Jakku, a band of Teedos had snuck into the toppled-over  AT-AT walker she'd made her home. Rey fought back. They retreated in haste and never returned – she suspects she might have killed one, though the memory is blurred in her mind, half forgotten. She remembers the fear the most. She hadn't been able to sleep well for months afterwards. She can only imagine what it was like for him, sleepless months, years perhaps...?

 

"I've never really slept well since," Ben says, still reading her mind with infuriating ease. "Sleep inducers would help, but I prefer awareness over rest."

 

"Since Luke?" she repeats. "But it's been _years_."

 

"I know." He looks away. "I sleep with guards outside my chambers. Snoke persuaded me it would be safer this way. In the same breath, he also implied they would one day turn on me while I slept."

 

She hates the darkness growing back on his face at the mention of that horrid creature.

 

"Ben. He's gone now."

 

"Yeah," he says. "It hasn't been this quiet in my mind in a very long time."

 

The same old anger bubbles up in her chest. The thought that she _doe_ s want to strangle him resurfaces with surprising force. The books that she knocked over slide counterclockwise on the floor with her sudden frustration.

 

"Then why do you persist?" she demands.

 

"In what?"

 

"In choosing the Dark side!"

 

"I haven't chosen the Dark side, Rey. I wish you would understand that."

 

Ben meets her gaze again. He looks tired, or bored, or a mixture of the two, Rey isn't sure. She wishes she could slap some sense into him.

 

"Murdering innocent people across the galaxy is not the Dark side?"

 

"There are no sides, Light or Dark. Only choices we must make."

 

"You chose wrong. You were supposed to choose me." 

 

Saying it out loud sends waves of pain all over her body. The books spin harder, out of her control now. Ben's own anger flares up as well, but it's a cold, uncharacteristic fury that does not meet Rey's more explosive one.

 

"So were you!" he hisses. "You did not understand! I thought the Dark side was the answer when Snoke still lived. I was wrong, I see that now. Do you think you're fully on this Light side of yours? You considered killing me in my sleep, minutes ago." She shakes her head, but Ben's tirade continues before she can protest, his eyes ablaze as he stands and walks closer to her. Too close to her, and she's keenly aware that he is wearing nothing but his underwear. "Don't lie. It crossed your mind. I know it. You've killed before. That scavenger on Jakku was your first, but not your last. The way you fight does not come from the Light side. You know this. I saw it in your heart. You'd be unstoppable. We'd be unstoppable together. Why do you deny yourself?"

 

"I don't deny myself. This is me, Ben! This is the real me. I want no part in your wretched plans for the Galaxy. I can never join you!"

 

"You will. You saw it when you touched me."

 

"No!" Oh, she'll never admit that, not now, not to him. She'll lie through her teeth if she has to. They were _together_ in her vision. And she felt happier than she ever realized was possible. That's the worst betrayal of it all, and it's what she can never tell any of her friends, who still think her a Hero. Never. "That future is gone. It no longer exists. You made it impossible."

 

" _You_ did that, Rey."

 

He steps even closer to her. Rey refuses to move back. They are close enough to touch, and he is nearly naked. Her eyes want to wander down his chest, down his belly, but she's afraid that if she begins to look she will not be able to stop. She can hear Ben's breath through the Force, uneven and quick. Just like hers. She is supposed to be furious with him, but the thought of sliding her arms around him will not leave her mind once it enters it. Ben breaks eye contact, at last, but his gaze lands on her mouth, and he does not look away. 

 

The knock on her door startles them both - both?  Can he hear? His reaction alarms her at once: if Ben heard the door, what else can he hear? What else can he see of her surroundings?

 

"Rey? Are you alright in there?"

 

It's Finn. He sounds worried. He must have heard when the desk toppled over. Rey prays he heard nothing more.

 

"Who is that?" Ben hisses.

 

"Shut up," she tells him, and then adds, for Finn, "I'm fine!"

 

"You sure?"

 

"Yes, I'm sure. I knocked over my desk by accident."

 

She hopes Finn believes this. He must believe her, or she is lost. Truly afraid for the first time that day, Rey turns to face Ben again to beg him to be quiet, but finds that he is gone. Her room is empty. Still shaken, Rey sinks down and sits on her bed. Everything is spinning.

 

"Mind if I come in? You don't sound fine."

 

Finn cracks the door open before she has a chance to refuse. Her first instinct, horribly, is to slam it shut, but she catches herself just in time. There's nothing threatening about him. He only looks concerned. His eyes widen when he sees the mess in her room. She doesn't blame him. It does look pretty spectacular: her books didn't just fall over her desk, they are scattered all over the room, yawning open like a sandstorm just blew through – and maybe it did. Tempers did flare during that conversation. Not just Ben's. Hers, too. _I did this_ , she thinks, but instead of ashamed she feels unbecomingly at peace with herself. But it does hurt to see some pages have been torn out because of their mutual anger.

 

"Sorry," Rey says, offering a smile that feels fake. "I was trying something with the broken lightsaber."

 

Finn steps inside. He is going to walk over to her and show more concern. She doesn't want any of it. She doesn't deserve any of it. Yet when he puts a hand on her shoulder, she allows herself this small comfort. She was alone, before. But she has friends now. A family. She isn't nobody, not anymore. If she doesn't ruin this, she'll never have to be alone again. She must find a way for that to be enough. A way to shut Ben out from her mind. A tiny, annoying voice that sounds very much like his reminds her she might never be able to.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

 

 

With Rose's help, and supplies from a handful of ships that have been decommissioned since landing on Ahuen, Rey has been able to reconstruct all the mechanic parts of the lightsaber. It can be powered on now, but despite her efforts she has been unable to channel light into the crystals.

 

"Don't worry," Rose tells her. "You'll figure it out. If anyone can, it's you."

 

She is the sweetest. They were so afraid she wouldn't make it after Crait, Finn especially, but Rose had proved them all wrong. _You won't be getting rid of me this easily_ , she'd quipped, and was back on her feet well before the medi-droids predicted. She shares Rey's love for fixing broken things, and many a morning has been spent together tinkering up with the engines of their small fleet. When Rose smiles at her, greasy and dirty from a hard day's work, Rey wonders if this is what having a sister must be like.

 

"I'll keep trying," Rey answers, wishing she had as much faith in herself as Rose does.

 

She has not given up trying to decipher Luke's books. Sometimes she feels on the edge on a breakthrough, as if the letters were just about to start making sense to her, but her concentration always breaks before she manages to. The tomes remain inscrutable. Rey still makes a point to try every day. If she's learned anything these past months, it's that the Force is just as stubborn as she is, and she is not about to let It win this one.

 

After all their earlier zeal, there has been surprisingly little word of the First Order. Not one rumor on the comms about what they are doing, where they are in the Galaxy, whether they are reorganizing or regrouping or if they are an immediate threat to them. But Rey needs to be prepared for their return, no matter how silent their enemies are at the moment. She has not heard from Ben in months, a tiny little pain gnawing her heart. She wouldn't seek their connection willingly, but the silence surprises her. Maybe the Force has given up? It would be for the best, she tells herself. She will have that lightsaber ready in time.

 

Ironically, just as Rey is concentrating hard on the book and _not_ on how ridiculous it is that she misses him, the Force brings her Ben.

 

That delicious and shameful flutter of joy she allows herself to feel is rapidly extinguished when he turns to face her. Rey gasps. Instead of his usual black garb, Ben is now dressed in gray. It isn't the dark, subdued gray of the uniforms of the First Order, but different hues of a lighter color combined in the various layers that he is wearing. Finely embroidered robes that go down to mid-thighs, fitted trousers that disappear into knee-high boots, a cape fastened across his shoulders with a silver clasp she recognizes at once, because she's seen General Organa wear a similar symbol as a hairpin. He looks so _regal_. General Organa was once a princess, and from what Rey knows, a grandmother of his was also a queen, but nothing could have prevented the shock of seeing him like this. He was born to wear this, there is no denying it. And then she remembers what it is that it stands for, what it is that he is in charge of. Rey looks away, pained.

 

"I'm sorry this is odious to you," Ben says, sounding genuinely pained, too.

 

"What am I supposed to call you? Supreme Leader Kylo Ren?"

 

"No. That name was an artifact of Snoke's, and I fell for it like a stupid child. I go by Ben Organa now. I thought you'd have heard."

 

They haven't - it would have caused tremendous outrage among the members of the Resistance. Rey can guess General Organa would not be pleased if she knew her name was being used for wrongdoings. The name of a defunct royal house, ironically extinct at the hands of criminals the First Order seeks to emulate, would give him an air of legitimacy across the Galaxy. He shouldn't be allowed to leave behind the name that terrorized so many. Ben is infuriating.

 

"You sure look proud, for someone who is sorry."

 

He takes a long time to answer, so her gaze is drawn back to him in spite of herself. He looks composed but for his eyes, ablaze with intensity as he stares, stares, stares at her. He must be outdoors, because his cape flutters softly, as if moved by a soft breeze. He's cut his hair, a little. He likely meant to favor a neater style, but it seems to have a mind of its own, and retains its dramatic flair even as it falls to just under his ears in soft waves. It makes him look older. _I wish it did not have to be like this_ , Rey catches herself thinking – wishing it could be something easy and pure like whatever is blossoming between Finn and Rose. She hates the way it brings stupid tears to her eyes. He's seen her cry too much by now. She should not be crying over an enemy.

 

"I do what I must," he says at last, his tone clipped and distant. "I thought I might as well look the part."

 

"Liar. You loved designing this."

 

Every inch of his new costume betrays his attention to detail, with an obvious touch of his mother's exquisite sense of fashion. Rey wonders, briefly, how it must have been to have General Organa as his mother. She knows next to nothing of what happened in the Galaxy after the fall of the Empire, let alone in the personal lives of the Heroes. But if Ben's flamboyance is anything to go by, she must have at least taught him how to dress for every occasion. Ben Organa was born to be a ruler. But not like this.

 

"Can you blame me?" he says. "Snoke dressed like he'd just stumbled out of bed."

 

Rey does not know whether to laugh or to begin crying in earnest – she can tell Ben is trying to joke, but the saddest expression lingers in his eyes, as if it still pained him to speak of Snoke. She settles for a smile, and doesn't move from her bed when she steps closer to her. He must be somewhere shaped differently from her room, or there must be something in the way, because he seems to struggle with closing the distance between them without disturbing his surroundings. He crouches down by Rey, not unlike that time when he tried interrogating her – when in his haste to read her mind he'd seared their bond open in a flash of Light. She hadn't understood, then. She does now. He is so close to her she can feel the warmth of his body through their link in the Force, his hands just to the side of her knees.

 

"I couldn't feel you for so long," Ben says, his voice low and husky, as he looks up into her eyes, "I thought the link was gone."

 

"Me too," she admits. She knows what Ben feels like. His imprint on the Force is an unmistakable pulse perceptible only in her mind, shaped like him. A silhouette, or a scent, but made out of light and darkness (a moving Black Hole, perhaps, constantly changing its shape, from which the Light bleeds out uncontrollably). He must perceive her in a similar way. She tilts her head, suddenly curious. "What do I feel like?"

 

"I can show you," Ben says. "But I might have to touch you."

 

Rey hesitates. He had been able to read her so easily the only time they tried this. She hadn't even been aware of what corners of her mind Ben was scanning, and she may not yet be strong enough to stop him from accessing knowledge he shouldn't have. In turn, she might just be able to do the same, and learn something about the latest machinations of the First Order –that might just be worth it. But that isn't what this is about, is it. She somehow knows that this isn't what their bond will choose to reveal. The Force is capricious this way.

 

"May I?" he asks, and when Rey nods, he places his hands, slightly shaking, on her knees.

 

The contact is a jolt of light, startling them both, but Ben steadies his hands on Rey, and she sees herself the way he sees her with his own eyes. She recognizes her shape, sitting on a surface invisible to him but that she knows is her bed, radiating pure energy from the tip of her toes to the top of her head, where it shines the brightest. Force-Rey glows in a faint yellow, but it isn't a placid source of light, the kind you might want for reading at bedtime. It's a raging, unstoppable presence peppered in dark shadows – a star bursting, a rumbling volcano, a roaring waterfall. She has never seen any of those with her own eyes, but Ben must have. Is this how he perceives her to be? Powerful, unstoppable? The awe with which he regards her is enough to stun her back to her own mind, bewildered, and amazed.

 

Still on his knees in front of her, Ben is looking up at her just as intensely as before, but she's never seen him smile like this: a grin that Rey knows she is mirroring, because she feels the same child-like wonder over the nature of their bond, over the certainty that whatever is joining them is larger than either of them, larger than the Galaxy, larger than the Universe, defying time and space and matter to coalesce in this moment together. This bond is theirs to nurture while it lasts, for greatness or madness, or a little bit of both. Rey puts her hands on top of Ben's and thumbs over his knuckles. She can feel his mind retreating from hers, and she is tempted for a brief instant to latch on to him to stop him, but Ben withdraws before she manages to.

 

"We're more guarded against each other now," he says, echoing her own sadness. "I don't think it will ever be like that first time."

 

"It doesn't have to be," she tells him, but it rather feels like she's trying to reason with herself.

 

As it stands now, after touching like this, going back to killing each other is as foreign and absurd as Rey cutting off one of her limbs herself. But this reluctance cannot be, no matter how precious their bond has become for her. She must be stronger than this. For her friends. For the good of the Galaxy. There is no middle where they could meet, no bridge to build across the gap; his crimes too monstrous to gloss over or to leave behind.

 

"What are you reading?" Ben asks suddenly, startling her out of her musings. The book is on her lap, and he is staring down at it with an interest she finds disquieting.

 

"Nothing," she says, and tries to close it, but Ben lays his hands flat on top of it to keep it open. It's costing him a tremendous amount of concentration to be able to do this, she can sense it.

 

"Did Luke give this to you?"

 

"I stole it from him."

 

Ben smirks at this, but distractedly, focused as he is on examining the book in front of him. He traces over the lines in the text with his finger, murmuring something Rey can't quite hear. He's _reading_! With some effort, but reading nonetheless.

 

"You can read this?" she asks, and her wounded pride makes it come out more biting than she meant to.

 

"Can't you?" Ben says, glancing up at her in surprise. "You can't," he states when he understands. "I can you show you."

 

Her first instinct is to refuse. Of course this comes so easily for him. Luke must have taught him whatever this language is. It's so unfair. Luke taught him all he knew. Ben had years and years of training under someone who loved him with all his heart, patient, kind, good-hearted. An uncle. A family. Ben wasted it all.

 

"Rey," he says, confused by the anger he can likely perceive over their bond. He is standing up now, looking down at her. "It's nothing you don't already know."

 

"Fine," she snaps.

 

"Open the book on the first page. It may be easier if you stand."

 

Rey stands up, expecting Ben to take a step back to make room for her, but he doesn't move. They are standing so near. If they were in the same plane of existence, she'd be mere inches from him, her feet between his feet as if they were about to dance. She wonders what he smells like, this close. Rey swallows, staring up at him and somehow not feeling dwarfed by his height. He isn't looking at her, concentrated on the book that she holds open for him. He places a finger on the first line of the book.

 

"Emaehr myn Jedairemn," he intones softly, his voice rising to harmonize a chant with surprising skill, "Jedairemn emaehrel." He lifts his gaze from the book to meet hers. "You know what this means."

 

And Rey _does_ know, somehow, she has no idea why or how, but she does understand. Her surroundings gone, a faint glow envelops them as they stand together among constellations. She'd never known he could sing.

 

"I am one with the Force," she says, amazed to find that when she glances down at the book the symbols finally make sense to her.

 

"And the Force is with me," Ben completes. "Every Force user knows this language. You already do."

 

Her breath catches because Ben bends down to be at eye level with her, and he presses their foreheads together. The Force pulses against Rey's brow where they are supposed to be touching. She closes her eyes. Ben is willing all that he knows about these symbols straight into her mind, unlocking something in her that lay dormant until then. He used to draw these symbols with a calligraphic set of his own as a child, mesmerized by the shapes, memorizing all there was to know, hungry to understand everything about himself and his fearsome family.

 

"Rey," he whispers against her cheek. His breath is warm and uneven. She did not think she'd be able to feel this through their bond. For a crazy, impossibly beautiful moment, she wonders if he's going to kiss her, but he adds, "These texts were not meant to be read or studied literally. They were written by Force users like you and me, with their own imperfect knowledge and interpretations. Anything there is to know about the Force is already inside you."

 

He pulls back and turns his head to the side, as if something in his surroundings required his immediate attention. His hand flies down to the hilt of his lightsaber, but his gaze returns to Rey, urgent and pleading.

 

"Do not forget that it is darkness that gives way to the light. Without it, it would not shine as brightly."

 

"Ben?" she asks, alarmed by this threat that he perceives, but that she cannot distinguish.

 

"Don't unlearn what you already know, Rey."

 

And then he's gone, her name on his lips lingering around her in a fading echo. The book falls from Rey's hands.

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, I'm going to assume those books in Luke's island were written ages and ages before the Jedi Order as we know it from the movies existed. Proto-Jedi, if you will. As I said before, I only have superficial knowledge of the lore, but from a cursory read at the various online encyclopedias, I can't be the only one who sees a game-changing difference between "there are no emotions, only peace" and "emotions, YET peace"??

* * *

 

 

 

Ben said the texts were not meant to be taken literally, but the more she reads, the more Rey thinks he must be wrong – it must have been the Darkness in him clouding his perception. The books are immensely helpful. She can see the writers as clearly as if they were in front of her, their imprints still alive in Force: their laborious calligraphy, their beautiful temples, their simple robes, their order growing and growing across the Galaxy as many more Force users joined their ranks. She does not know their names, but she loves them. She loves them for their teachings, a one-sided conversation spanning millennia that ended in her hands. Rey has caught herself thinking more than once that she was meant to find this in Ahch-To,  that these texts were written for her, that the OId Masters knew that one day Rey of Jakku would need their guidance when no one else was left to teach her. All those dreams, all those whispers, all the times she had asked herself what was _wrong_ with her... it all makes sense now. Whenever she has questions, she opens the book, and no matter what pages she lands on, the answer is there for her, sometimes plain to grasp, sometimes requiring more introspection.

 

Under the guidance of the Texts, Rey manages to channel the Force into the broken lightsaber one morning, and by the evening she wills a new lightsaber to life, its light bright and yellow as it travels up and down the long hilt Rose wrought for her in haste. A double blade, to match her staff on Jakku. To her chagrin, it does not  have the clear, pure radiance that Luke's lightsaber used to give; instead, it has a fiery, uneven glow that reminds her of Ben's lightsaber. The crystal must have been damaged when it broke in two. It'll do.

 

"How did you figure it out?" Rose asks, mesmerized as she watches her try out the light-staff, blending movements she already knows with certain harmonious poses that the book teaches. The light traces a perfect yellow circle as she twirls it in the air.

 

"It was the Force," Rey tells her. "I just knew."

 

"Like magic?"

 

"Not really." Rey turns off her staff to face her. "Have you ever just _known_ exactly where a stubborn screw is meant to go, even if it's resisted you all day?" Rose nods, and rolls her eyes a little, as if remembering many particular instances of that happening. Rey smiles at her. "That's the Force."

 

The book explains that everyone can sense it to some degree, but not all are aware of it, and even fewer are able to wield it. Some people, like Rey ( _like Ben_ ), are born with this ability to perceive it, channel it, and bend it to their will. Jedi, the book calls them, but Ben is not a Jedi. He hasn't been one for years. Perhaps he never was. It doesn't matter, Rey tells herself. He doesn't matter. For this too the Texts are helpful. The mantras are supposed to clear her mind, and she feels more grounded, calmer, and most definitely _not_ missing him. If she manages to rid herself of all her wearisome emotions, the book teaches, she will feel stronger in the Force.

 

It is, however, next to impossible to achieve.

 

Rey feels _too much_. Her emotions will not quiet, no matter how much she tries to will them away when she immerses herself in the Force, emotions she had not been aware she'd been feeling until they get in her way, and then when she notices them it's like they won't go away at all. There is no emotion, only peace, the Texts claim, but emotion is all there is. Fear. Anger. Loneliness. Those are the stronger ones. The irritating trinity she cannot rid herself of. Every day, before sunrise, when the tundra is still cold and barren all around her and the snow mixes with the sand, Rey stands in front of the ocean, and tries to clear her mind. Every day, she does manage, for a few brief moments, before the anger comes back full force, disturbs her balance, makes her scream in frustration as she spins and spins the staff until the snow lifts around her in an unstoppable whirlwind. Where is all this anger coming from? Why is it so never-ending?

 

She sees Ben in her dreams every night (but not via their Force link, that she thankfully has managed to suppress). He shouts at her like he did in the throne room. _No, no, no_ , he roars _. You're learning it all wrong! Don't unlearn what you already know, Rey!_ In other dreams, he scowls at her, his gaze wounded like that of a lost child, _how could you leave, why did you refuse me_? In the worst one, he appears before her, bare-chested, and the raw hunger in his gaze jolts her awake every time, aroused, and _alone_. She ignores the dreams, of course. She is tempted to rub it out of her system (the books are conspicuously silent on this matter), but she doesn't trust herself to stop if she indulges in it, even just once. So she just ignores it. But it only makes her frustration harder to contain.

 

The Force throws back at her the Teedo she killed, her parents leaving (they left her because they _knew_ , they left her because of _her)_ , her younger self shivering under a thin blanket in the cold desert night, the piercing hunger, alone, alone, alone, Ben's eyes, dark and expressive and full of want that she must never reciprocate, but she does. She does! She destroys four boulders with one stomp of her staff, sending earthquake-like ripples all over the deserted beach. She is too slow to stop herself, to pull herself back from how far she's strayed from the Light. The debris come back full force, and cut her forehead in a deep gash, just above her eyebrow. When she opens her eyes, she sees that in her anger, she has also destroyed two of the freighter ships stationed on the beach, one sliced in half, damaged beyond repair, and the other in flames from catastrophic electric failure.

 

Rose attempts to stitch her up herself, because the med-droids are underpowered, and should be used as sparingly as possible.

 

"Sounds dangerous, this Jedi stuff," she tells her as she grimaces, not as skilled with a needle as she is with her tools.

 

"It shouldn't be," Rey says.

 

She stares at herself in the mirror of the fresher and doesn't recognize herself. This thin, worn out girl with bags under her eyes is far from the serenity the books promised. Ben is right (it makes her blood boil to admit it): whatever she is doing to learn this, she's doing it wrong.

 

"I can't seem to do it properly," she adds, and refuses the meet Rose's questioning glance.

 

"Why?" Rose touches her face to make her look at her. "Hey. What's up? You haven't looked your best lately."

 

Could she confide in her? Could Rose possibly understand and not consider her a traitor? She knows the girl was tazing deserters, after the last space battle. No, Rose would never forgive her.

 

"I can't concentrate," Rey says, keeping it as vague as she can manage.

 

"Something on your mind?"

 

 _Ben_ , Rey thinks. She only nods. But Rose doesn't look away, clearly expecting her to continue.

 

"Many things, things from my past. Old hurts. But newer ones, as well. I... I am angry. I want to be with someone I can't ever have," she says at last, the words pouring out like an abscess has broken somewhere in her mind as she admits it out loud. "And the more I push him from my thoughts, the more he worms into my mind. I am so angry at myself. At everything. I never wanted this to happen. I wish I were stronger than this. I know I am stronger than this."

 

There. She's said it. She stares down at her hands, half hoping Rose doesn't ask more questions, and desperately wishing she does.

 

"Oh no," Rose says, and Rey holds her breath, horrified. She shouldn't have said anything at all. "Oh, no, Rey. Is this about Finn?"

 

The question is so unexpected Rey lets out a short laugh, and relief washes over her. But Rose looks so worried she hurries to reassure her.

 

"Of course it isn't. Why would you think that?"

 

"I just..." Rose bites her bottom lips as she puts the first aid kit away. "I know how much Finn loves you, you know? How you were there for each other. I, I knew I didn't stand a chance, if it was you he loved, but I hoped... I wanted..."

 

Rey does pause to consider this. Finn had rescued her, against all odds. He had come back for her when no else had. Back in Ahch-To, Finn had been her beacon, meant to guide her back to the Resistance – back home. (But she hadn't gone home, in the end. She had gone to find Ben.) Maybe Rose isn't far from the truth. Finn would have made sense, had things been different. Had the Force not thrust her into an all-consuming bond with their worst enemy. Had Rey not been... what she is, a little bit hero, a tiny bit monster, half hope, and half anger.

 

"Rose," Rey says, and squeezes her hand gently. "It's alright. I promise. You are so good to Finn, I am happy for you both. There's no one better I can imagine with him."

 

"Oh. But then... Who is it? The guy you say you can't have?"

 

"No one," Rey says, letting go of Rose's hand and closing off from her immediately.

 

"Someone from Jakku?"

 

"It's not important. It's something I need to work out on my own."

 

For someone who is lonely, she sure does enjoy spending time alone. If it weren't for Rose's stubbornness, Rey would spend days after days on her own, craving companionship but shunning it in the same breath. She learned this in the desert, when no one but herself would feed her, comfort her, or solve her problems. Alone is the safest. (But alone is also the saddest.) And they would not understand. They could not. Finn had tried to breach her newly-erected walls with his gentle friendship, but even he had given up once she started studying the books. The path of the Jedi is a lonely one, and the Texts speak of celibacy, praising it as the closest one may come to true perfection, free of any attachments. But that isn't what Rey wants, is it. For all her aloofness, she _is_ attached to her friends. She loves them. She would do anything for them, anything in her power, even if that means killing Ben. (Wouldn't she?). How can her greatest weakness also be her driving force?

 

There is not much to salvage from the wreck of the ships she destroyed on the beach. Rey takes it upon herself to scavenge them for parts (screws, circuits, comms chips, _anything_ ), and it takes her two days of penance to comb through them as thoroughly as she can. She brings back what she finds back to base, apologetic, but something has been irrevocably changed. They aren't looking at her with awe anymore – there is a hint of fear in her wake as she makes her way through their quarters. She's no longer their good little pet Jedi, that little dark voice whispers in heart. They're _afraid_.

 

"I just want to know if it's safe for us that she's learning this," Poe says, but he isn't talking to her. He's speaking to Leia, as if Rey weren't right there in the room with them. It's... irritating. But she's supposed to be contrite, and keeps her head down in case her scowl is showing.

 

Leia glances at her, and Rey sees so much good will, but also some hesitation. She seems very tired.

 

"Rey doesn't have a teacher," she says softly. "This can't be easy for her. But I know she can manage to find her way and control her powers for good. I know Luke struggled for a while, when he was first learning. And he also had no teacher."

 

She doesn't mention her dreadful child, his uncontrollable power, or his failed training, but Rey hears it nonetheless. She hasn't had the heart to tell Leia what Ben is calling himself now. If she doesn't already know.

 

"Maybe you should consider practicing away from our equipment," Poe suggests, looking at her for the first time since the wreck. Unlike the others, he isn't afraid. Just disappointed. "We've lost so much already, Rey. We can't afford to lose more."

 

Maybe she should go away, truly away, until she gets a hold of herself, to another planet, or another system altogether. (Back to Jakku – she'd deserve that.) The idea brings too much distress to entertain it. Instead, Rey makes her way to another beach the next morning, further away from the base, and makes sure there is nothing breakable around her. She focuses on her breath, reaching for the Force with her mind. There's nothing harder than trying not to think about a pink ewok, they say. So instead of trying not to think of Ben, she does think of him.

 

He killed Han, he arguably killed Luke, he seeks to destroy everything Rey holds dear. He is the leader of a bloodthirsty organization that will not stop until the Galaxy is enslaved. She hates him. But she glimpsed into his mind, she saw the terrible hold Snoke had on his psyche for years, a dark, corrosive, and festering darkness that even now has not fully abated. She'd felt his pain keenly, and made it her own. The mirror in the cave had shown her a silhouette that for half a second she'd worried would be his – and then herself. Mirrored with him in their loneliness. He'd listened to her when Luke would not. Who else could understand this power within her, this power that demands more more more and cannot seem to be dampened or quieted down? The Force links them together because they are the same, made of the same cloth that weaves stars together. She loves him. The realization doesn't surprise her. Somehow, she's always known.

 

She's been reading the Texts wrong, hasn't she. It's not 'there is no emotions, only peace' - it's 'emotions, _yet_ peace'.

 

And the sudden peace that comes with accepting her feelings is staggering in its intensity, breaking the tension that was bending her mind in half. Rey sees herself on Jakku as a child, but not as a creature to be pitied: she sees herself unstoppable, the Force guiding her steps and protecting its precious child day after day in an unforgiving land: a fierce yellow presence, like the one in Ben's mind, finding the best junk on the first try, to feed herself and survive. She is not Nobody. She is one with the Force; she has always been. She sees herself fighting Kylo Ren the first time, her moves erratic she as antagonized him, and the flash of darkness when she cut through him with the blue lightsaber, and did consider killing him. She sees their second fight, their perfect synchronicity, Ben's own light burning the fiercest as he broke free of Snoke's ghastly grip and joined her, for one single, perfect moment where the Universe was as it had always been meant to be. Balanced, bright, and beautiful. This is how they are supposed to be, the pair of them. Together. Never apart.

 

Rey gasps, and when she opens her eyes, Ben is standing in front of her, dressed in his regal robes and staring at her in awe.

 

"Rey," he whispers, breathlessly. "You're beautiful."

 

"Wha –" she stammers, too stunned by what the Force has just shown her, but also by the words she'd never thought she'd hear on his lips.

 

"You've never been so... luminous, before. What brought this on? Why did you show yourself to me like this?"

 

He sounds distressed, for some reason, but Rey can't focus on that. Still shaking, she closes the distance between them and flings herself against him. She loves him, and she isn't afraid. The Force crashes over them like a wave. Ben bends down to hold her, and lets out the softest moan into her hair.

 

"You are going to win, Rey. I know now that I can never kill you, not after seeing you like this."

 

"I don't want to kill you," she whispers against his intangible form. "Tell me I won't have to."

 

He lets go of her so forcefully it's nearly a push away from him. Rey steps back at first, but marches right back up to him with a low growl. He will not shut her out. She will not allow it. But Ben is pacing now, making erratic moves with his hands as if he were knocking over things in a surface she cannot see.

 

"I can't stall anymore! I've delayed the attack as long as it was reasonably plausible. What am I supposed to do? Dissent is growing. I must show resolve!"

 

"An attack? What attack?" Rey reaches to hold Ben's arm, and surprisingly manages to steady him. He stops fussing with his surroundings, and looks down at her. "Ben, what attack? Are we in danger?"

 

"Not yet. They don't know where you are, but the officers are combing all existing radars round the clock. I can't stop that. It's only a matter of time until they discover you're on Ahuen."

 

He knows. Rey's heart freezes in horror. This has been her worst nightmare since they landed on this planet. He found out, he knew – because of her, likely. Ben steps closer to her, slides an arm around her waist, and a part of her wants to push him away from her and reject this contact, but does not. The look on his face softens when he sees how much this is distressing her.

 

"Rey, I've known for six months where you are. I just knew." She shouldn't believe him, but he sounds so sheepish it's difficult not to. He adds, more forcefully, "But they won't find out your location through me. I promise you that."

 

"You _knew_? But then why didn't you...? Why?"

 

Ben looks weary, worn out, like a cornered animal. Why was he stalling his attack? Supreme Leader Ben Organa, not Kylo Ren, he'd said. _I didn't choose the Darkness, Rey_ , he'd also said. What is the state of the First Order? Is there dissent among his soldiers? What does this mean for the Resistance? Hope, at last, surges in Rey's heart.

 

"Ben, surrender," she says, but she is no longer the teary-eyed girl who hesitated in the throne room. Her tone is forceful, commanding. "Leave them behind. You weren't meant for this throne. Your place is with me. You know it. It's why you won't attack, isn't it?"

 

"I will attack. I will!"

 

There is something impossibly ridiculous about arguing like this with him when she is draped on his arm, leaning against him, feeling their bond alive and bright vibrating through every point where their bodies are touching.

 

"How can I stop?" Ben goes on, raising his voice with every sentence. "Stop and do what? What is there for me with you? Your so called-friends would shoot me on sight. I was so close, Rey. So close from bringing order to the Galaxy!"

 

"We can bring peace to the Galaxy together, Ben. You and me. But this is not the way."

 

"There is no other way. You weren't there, Rey. You didn't see how useless the Republic had become. They debated on and on, endlessly, for days, months, years! Quarreling over petty, bureaucratic nonsense, and nothing got accomplished. Nothing!"

 

There is so much venom in his voice that Rey guesses this isn't about the Republic at all. _Leia_? she perceives, because Ben is agitated enough that his thoughts are easy to follow. She wasted so much time, Ben is thinking, away from home (away from him), for a Republic that spit on her and stabbed her in the back for being Vader's daughter. Let the naysayers see, then, the true meaning of having Skywalker's blood flowing through their veins! Rey takes a step back, because Ben looks dreadful when he feels this way, but his grip on her waist tightens, and he holds her firmly against him. She's always known he is unhinged, and she still isn't afraid. Instead of resisting, she slides her arms around his neck.

 

"It won't be like that, this time," she tells him. "We'll make it work. Someone will. End this war, Ben. You're the only one who can."

 

Footsteps. Footsteps behind her, in the snow. Rey whirls around, and finds Poe running towards her.

 

"Rey!" he shouts. "It's General Organa."

 

A cold fear settles in her heart, and in her mind, she sees clearly how a great light is extinguished in the Force. Next to her, Ben lets out a strangled cry as he feels it too.

 

"Oh, Ben," she whispers, but when she turns around to see what he looks like, he's vanished entirely.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is a beast (significantly longer) and I'm kinda struggling - I hope to update soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added some tags to address Leia's death, and um, other stuff. 
> 
> I thought I might split the chapter because it was long, but decided against it in the end.
> 
> There's a hint of one-sided Damerey in the second half, avert your eyes if you need to, it's minuscule anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

The funeral is as grand as they can manage, which sadly isn't enough.

  
Princess of Alderaan. Leader of the Rebellion. Senator of the Old and the New Republic. General of the Resistance. Leia Organa would have deserved a state funeral, solemn music, public mourning, enormous halls, a casket wrought with diamonds arranged in the shapes of the systems she freed over the years. Instead, it's a quiet ceremony outside their base, under the stars, on the frozen grounds of Ahuen. Three torches have been lit over what will become her resting place, one for her, one for Luke, and one for Han. The effort to survive after the attack on the bridge was too great, and she'd been too stubborn to admit she was unwell for months. She had passed on unexpectedly but peacefully, in her sleep. The grief of the Resistance knows no end.

 

Poe asked Rey to say a few words, but she refused as gently as possible _. I didn't know her as long as you did_ , she told him, but lingering guilt is what stopped her. Rey never told General Organa about Ben. The finality of it hits Rey when she sees her body in the casket, clothed in her favorite dress. _I am linked with your son by the Force_ , she could have told her. _I tried to turn your son, and I failed. I think I may be in love with your son_. Would it have mattered? Rey intuits that Leia's reaction would have differed from Luke's explosive disapproval. She might have tried to protect her, might have pitied her, even. The General and her brother shared a bond, it was said, wrought in the pain of their losses in the Rebellion, and never interrupted until Luke pulled himself from the Force. Somehow Rey doesn't think it was like hers and Ben's. This longing, this thirst that only quiets when they are linked together (and even then demands _more, more, more_ ) is unfit for a brother and sister. It is a lover's bond. Now that she has accepted that, Rey finds that she can initiate contact more easily.

 

"Her hair is wrong," Ben says, next to her.

 

This is the longest they've been connected uninterrupted. Rey reached for him after her own shock had settled; she'd found him crying, but not the blubbering, hysteric mess she half expected. Ben was uncharacteristically calm, and though tears rolled freely down his cheeks, he had a lost, forlorn expression that only made his misplaced grief that much more poignant. Against her best judgment, Rey had agreed to let him see the funeral, in exchange for a promise not to try to gain any intelligence from their surroundings that he could use against them. _My mother is dead_ , _Rey_ , he'd said in a monochord tone that chilled her heart, _do you think I care about the war right now?_ The worst part - she wasn't sure she believed him. He had killed his own father in front of her, and had never shown remorse for it. But Rey trusted herself to be able to sever the link and shut him off the moment she noticed him straying. In any case, he already knew what planet they were on, and apparently had not acted on that.

 

"Her hair is wrong," Ben repeats, sounding increasingly annoyed. "Who did her hair? She'd have hated it that way."

 

"I don't know," Rey murmurs, trying not to draw attention to herself. Because of her usual aloofness, no one had questioned her need to stand by herself, a little bit away from the other mourners. "If you were here, you could have done it yourself."

 

She doesn't know where this need to hurt him (to _punish_ him) comes from, but the way Ben's breath hitches in pain is immensely satisfying.

 

"I never told her about us," she adds, more viciously. "I didn't want to tell her I was the one who failed to bring her son home."

 

"Don't be ridiculous," he growls. "There was no home to return to. There never was."

 

"You have no idea what never having a home means."

 

"Of course I do!"

 

His violent bitterness echoes over their bond, too raw to be mere hyperbole, and Rey clips her mouth shut, though she is burning to dispute this. She cannot raise her voice, not when Poe is giving his heartfelt eulogy. General Dameron, now. Leia would be so proud of him if she could see him like this, a natural leader urging his soldiers not to lose hope after their loss. Her best pilot – and Rey hopes Ben can hear that thought, to hurt him even more. Somewhere near the front, Rose and Finn are standing together, his arm around her shoulders as she cries in silence. _I want that_ , Rey thinks, irrationally. Someone to hold, someone to be strong with her.

 

"I could hold you, if you like," Ben says, still in the same petulant tone from when he complained about his mother's hair. He is seeing what she sees, and probably noticed where her gaze lingered.

 

"It's not the same, Ben."

 

"I know it isn't."

 

He doesn't wait for her permission, and wraps his arms around her from behind, far more fiercely than Rey expected. She nearly loses her balance, and muffles her sigh of relief at feeling herself enveloped by his presence like this. It does bring some comfort, in spite of everything, and she longs for it so keenly that she's willing to accept whatever she can take. Her shoulder grows damp from some of Ben's tears that manage to cross over their bond, and he holds her tighter.

 

"Luke is here," Rey warns, and though she feels him tensing, Ben makes no move to let go of her.

 

She cannot see Luke, though his imprint in the Force is unmistakable. There's a shift in the air around them. The somber mood among the grieving members of the Resistance seems to lighten up a little, and not just because of Poe's speech. The very nature of Luke Skywalker is to rekindle hope when none was left, and even in death, his Force-presence soothes the hearts of those who feel lost.

 

"He isn't here for us," Ben says, against her ear. "He's here for her. He's going to take her."

 

And indeed, just as Poe gives the signal for the casket to be closed, the soft blue glow of Luke's imprint ghosts over Leia's resting form, from which a faint red light emerges. Twin flames, they orbit each other in a dance that only Rey and Ben can see, and fuse together in a flash of purple, ascending towards the skies, and leaving Ahuen's orbit until they are but a blink among the stars.

 

"She's gone," Ben says, and lets go of Rey.

  
She thinks, for a moment, that he's gone as well, that he's managed to shut down their link on his own. But when she turns around, she finds that Ben has dropped to his knees, and is shaking with sobs he tries to stifle with little success. His pain cuts through Rey like lashes on her mind.

 

"They're all gone," he says. "I wanted this! But I don't know what for."

 

 _Monster, monster_ , she thinks, yet crouches down by him. The rest of the mourners are watching the grave being covered, and not at all minding what she is doing. She doesn't want to touch him. She isn't sure he won't lash out at her if she does.

 

"Why did you want to bring me home to her?" he asks. "She wouldn't have wanted me, after what I did. She never wanted me in the first place."

 

"Is that what Snoke made you believe?"

 

"That is why Snoke found me!" Ben shouts. "They wanted a normal son. They didn't want me."

 

He opens his thoughts to her, unguarded, and his memories flood over to her mind. Rey sees a much younger Leia, as young as herself perhaps, sensing her son's presence in her womb for the first time, and feeling nothing but dread that he might resemble her horrible father. Ben as a wailing baby who will not calm down, afraid of the whispers in the dark, tearing down toys from his nursery in his frustration and Leia who watches from the door and asks a bemused Luke, _What is wrong with him_? Han and Leia screaming at each other, and little Ben cowering behind a door, covering his ears with his hands not to hear when Han shouts, _All that nasty stuff, it's_ you _he gets it from_ , and Leia falls silent, does not defend her son, and slams the door on her way out. _You see?_ Snoke hisses in his mind. Days and days alone, alone with only droids to keep little Ben company, and he devours every book in the library to drown out the whispers in head, and to forget that his father left three years ago and never really returned. He sees his mother on holocasts from the New Republic, in blue monochrome, giving speeches and greeting other people, and though she does call him often, she hasn't been home in years, either. They never wanted him. They sent him away. They threw him away like the garbage he is. And then Luke, the only one who did want him, had betrayed betrayed betrayed –

 

"Ben," Rey says, pushing back against the assault of memories he has unleashed upon her. "Ben, stop! That is not all that happened."

 

He looks up at her, and before his shock can morph into full blown outrage, she pushes harder, and it feels as if she is kicking down and tearing apart a locked door in his mind: a new set of memories, repressed, or genuinely forgotten, break free and spray over them both. Rey now sees the same younger Leia, holding an infant Ben for the first time, looking into his eyes and smiling as a spark of recognition is kindled between them. Luke steps in the nursery like a ray of light, the ugly whispers finally go away and Ben can fall asleep when he holds him in his arms. Leia sitting in his little bed and rocking him in her arms, whispering _No, sweetheart, there is nothing in your closet, and if there is, mommy will kill it with a blaster_. Ben buried in his books, glaring at Han who's finally returned, arms full of presents and a new ship just for him, and Chewie won't take no for an answer so Ben finally get to _fly_ and he's good at it, and maybe this is the one thing he can make Han proud of so he learns and learns and learns all there is to learn about it. Leia's heart breaking when Ben in a fit of rage destroys calligraphic sketches that he's treasured over the years, not because she hates him but because she's afraid, and the tears in her eyes as she begs Luke, _please help him, I don't know how to help him, you're the only one he listens to_.

 

"You were so loved," Rey whispers, her heart aching at the contrast with her own childhood. _I wish I had parents_ , she thinks, just as she has many times before. But, for once, there is no anger to it. She knows now the past cannot be changed. "They were doing the best they could."

 

Ben is still crying, on his knees.

 

"I couldn't see," he mumbles. "Thank you. I didn't see."

 

It's uncanny, she thinks, the great lengths both Ben and Luke went to destroy their pasts. One exiled himself intending to die; the other killed his own father to revel in the guilt. She still relives that moment in her nightmares. Han, alone in that bridge, and Kylo Ren's red lightsaber piercing the dark. Ben's lightsaber.

 

"Do you regret it at least? Wishing them dead? Killing your father?"

 

"Of course I do! Every day. It tears me apart."

 

Something that vaguely feels like relief washes over Rey. Ben's hands still cover his face. Rey moves closer, and touches his hair, hesitantly, not wanting to startle him, but he leans against her at once.

 

"He was a simple man," Ben says, and so much sadness pierces through his hiccupped voice. "And because of that I was taught to hate him. But I never could. He deserved a better son."

 

 _Taught_ to hate him. Even now, Rey can tell these words are an echo of the voice that tormented Ben for so many years. Since he was a little child. _It hasn't been this quiet in my mind for years_ , he'd said to her, months before. He should have known better, Rey thinks. But could he? 

 

"Ben," she says, and cups his face with her hands. "You can't just kill the past. We are what we are because of our pasts. It makes us what we are today, but not what we'll become tomorrow. You asked me to let go of the past. I have, now. I think it's fair that I ask the same of you. But don't just let it go. Accept it. Mourn it. And then let go."

  
He meets her gaze. He stares, stares, stares at her like only he can do, his eyes drawing Rey into his orbit with an irresistible pull.

 

"How?" he croaks.

 

And then, cruelly, their bond is severed. Rey lets out a cry of frustration, tries to reach back, but she can draw nothing but snow around her. She is too exhausted, she realizes. The effort of maintaining the bond open has taken its toll on her, and she cannot find him again. _Ben, Ben, come back to me_ , she pleads in her mind.

 

"Were you saying something just now?" Poe asks, startling her. He has moved closer to her now that the ceremony is over, likely drawn by her sudden distress. There is, however, a touch of suspicion in his eyes, and Rey's heart freezes with dread. How much did he hear?

 

"Luke Skywalker was here," Rey answers. It isn't a lie, and it's hopefully safe enough for him not to question it. "Didn't you feel him? He came to say goodbye."

 

Poe glances around them, evidently seeing nothing but snow. She might have been hasty in thinking he looks suspicious. This is just exhaustion and devastating grief – he loved Leia so much. Still, when he meets her gaze again it isn't entirely friendly. He's wary of her. It breaks her heart. _Friend of a monster_. _Monster._

 

"I don't half understand the stuff you can do with your mind, Rey. Sometimes I think I would rather not understand at all."

 

She doesn't answer. What can she answer? After Leia's death, the only one who could understand is light years away. But Poe flashes her a sad smile and extends his hand to help her up.

 

"Let's go inside, it's cold out here."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Rey thinks, at first, that she's still asleep, and that this is a dream where she is in bed with Ben. She remembers going to her room straight after the funeral (Poe had walked her to her door, and had bid her a mournful goodnight), and she does remember falling asleep. And Ben is lying next to her, spooning her from behind, arms wrapped around her as tightly as he'd embraced her while his mother was being buried – Rey thinks, that if this were a Force vision, it would be very difficult for him to arrange himself in his surroundings to match hers so perfectly, because the way he is curled against her is as natural as if he were truly in her bed.

 

"It's not a dream," Ben says, against her ear. "I reached for you."

 

Rey's first instinct, now that she is more awake, is to shield her mind against him. She's so exhausted from the funeral and their earlier session, and her bed is just so warm and peaceful. She wishes she could just go back to sleep, like this, in his arms. In another universe, perhaps, this would be possible. But not in this one.

 

"Why?" she asks, her voice still thick with sleep.

 

"You know why."

 

They were cut off before, but it isn't the first time it's happened. Something has changed in their bond: she was able to reach for him, earlier, and now he's done it as well. Should she be feeling this unsettling thrill at the thought that they are learning to control it? That one day it may become a permanent dialogue across the Galaxy? That one day, perhaps, it will not be needed at all?

 

"I've given some thought to what you said about the past," he says.

 

She'd like to turn around and face him to see what he looks like, but he is holding her too tightly, and she does not want to break their embrace. He isn't wearing a shirt, she can tell from the way his bare arms brush against her own skin.

 

"I think I could, theoretically speaking, let go of my past, as you propose," he goes on. "But you've seen what my mind is like. The darkness in there is rooted too deeply to ever be excised. Even if I were to let go of my past, the poison would remain."

 

"It doesn't have to be like this," she says. "Your darkness is what fuels your power, as the light fuels mine, but it does not define you."

 

"But it will always be there. I'm not sure that's an acceptable way to live."

 

 _I'm not sure it's acceptable to_ you, she hears him think. She used to lament the outcome of that fight with Snoke. If she'd bid her time... if she'd try to bargain... But no. She could not. And it wouldn't have made a difference, would it. The choice was his to make, no matter how much she wanted him to choose otherwise. It doesn't hurt any less knowing that.

 

"That day, I thought I could save you. I really did, Ben." She lets out a shaky sigh. "But I think you're the only one who can save yourself."

 

She feels him tensing against her, and he loosens his grip on her. Rey turns on the bed to face him, slowly. He is shirtless, just as she sensed, only wearing the bottom half of his nightclothes. There is nowhere to place her hands that isn't on his bare skin, so she rests them against his chest. She can feel his heart thumping, a dim pulse in their bond under her fingertips. He is scowling at her.

 

"I have no idea what you think saving me means. Choosing 'the Light side', is that what you think it is?"

 

"I thought it was." Rey drums her fingers against his chest, matching his heartbeat. "But I think I was just asking you to be a good person. To save my friends. To stop the war. I don't think it was too much to ask."

 

He doesn't answer for a while. He moves one of his arms to rest it around her waist. His other hand snakes between them, and captures Rey's finger by finger.

 

"It wasn't too much to ask," he admits, at last. "I just wanted you to stay, Rey. I wanted you to rule with me. I wanted you to _be_ with me."

 

He brings her hand to his lips, and the kiss he presses against her fingers blossoms in the Force as a visible glow lingering between them. His meaning is unmistakable. Rey's breath catches in her throat. She wants to say she wanted ( _wants_ ) this too. She bites her bottom lip not to say it. Ben's gaze settles on her mouth, following the gesture. She has to remind herself she could have never accepted his offer, but when she's pressed like this against him it's an uphill battle, as hopeless as trying to fight the moving sands once their destructive hold settles on a prey.

 

"I can't," she manages to whisper. "I never want to be a tyrant."

 

Ben chuckles at this, and his gaze tears from her mouth.

 

"That's exactly why I wanted you to rule with me."

 

He opens his mind to her without warning, so forcefully Rey winces a little. She thinks, in passing, that she prefers when he eases her into himself more gently, so she can at least brace herself for it, but this has the unfortunate consequence of having her wonder what kind of lover he would be. Demanding, or gentle. Maybe a bit of both. Rey doesn't have the time to feel flustered, because Ben is showing her all that he has been doing in the past six months – an incredibly foolish display of trust, as if they weren't on opposite sides of a bitter conflict.

 

Rey sees Ben landing in nine different planets she does not recognize, dressed in all of his Supreme Leader paraphernalia, and a red-haired general that Ben's thoughts identify as Hux constantly at his heels. He is well received, so Rey can only assume these are allies of his, or at least, willing enough to be. But support is lukewarm once the visits begin. The Galaxy has been bled dry, and Ben is not a politician. She sees him sitting in council, increasingly impatient, fidgeting in his seat, and invariably losing his temper. He uses the Force to spill expensive food and wine all over the tablecloth when the leader receiving him, in her best no-nonsense tone, tells him that surely he understands what made his mother an unsuitable leader applies to him as well, given they share the same blood, and perhaps he and his mother could work out their disagreements over a cup of tea and bugger off the rest of Galaxy with their drama. It's... a bit of a scandal. Rey wants to laugh, but Ben's scowl forbids her to. _"Supreme Leader, you should rather use your powers to draw them our cause,"_ Hux tells him, but Ben ignores this advice: they will join him willingly, or not at all.

_"Master Organa,"_ says a politician in another planet, dressed in golden robes and a coronet on his head, _"you understand we're all weary of this senseless war. Your mother's summon was received with equal tedium during our Parliamentary Session. Once upon a time, we supported the idea of a strong central government, but your organization destroyed the capital. So be it. Let each system fend for themselves. Disarmament might even be wise, given how your organization has been inclined to misuse it in the past."_ Ben doesn't answer, but Rey feels him agreeing, and he departs the planet without insisting. Defeated. The planets that do surrender to the First Order do so obsequiously, but the stench of fear and distrust inspires more unease in Ben, rather than triumph. _"We've wasted enough time with idle chat. If they will not bend, we've the means to beat them into submission,"_ Hux insists, on the control board of one of their ships. He is a pest. Rey can feel Ben's annoyance growing. He wants to kill Hux. Unsurprisingly, Hux wants to kill him too. Hux's thoughts, loud and clear, _"This incompetent child was more useful when he was confined to his magical powers. He's no Supreme Leader. I would make a better Supreme Leader."_

 

"He's so dull. He is staging a coup. He thinks he can overthrow me," Ben says, withdrawing his thoughts back to his own mind, but not before Rey perceives how much this is driving him mad. He has let go of her hand, to close his in a fist. "I could kill him, but then there will be another general thirsty for power, and another, and another. This isn't at all what I wanted. It's nothing like I thought it would be. All this power... and I can't even wield it. I'm just wasting it! Wasting everything."

 

Rey has been holding her breath since the visions ended. What he's shown her is a better outcome than they could ever hope to attain. There is no love lost for the Resistance across the Galaxy, as the silence after Crait had painfully demonstrated, but the First Order has not been able to build support either. Her first instinct is to demand, again, that Ben to relinquish his throne and join them, or stop fighting them at least, so that in time the Resistance may grow stronger again, strong enough to spread their message of hope all over the Galaxy. She opens her mouth to speak, but something holds her back. She sees herself in the throne room, fighting for that lightsaber, and Ben in front of her, furious, equally strong, their wills locked in an insurmountable draw. The more she pushes him when it comes to the fate of the Galaxy, she realizes, the more he will push back. If she stays quiet, if she lets him run his course, there may yet be hope – but at what cost? How many more lives must they lose until he gets his bearings? What if he never does _? That is why you were supposed to kill him_ , she reminds herself, _and not cuddle in bed with him_.

 

"Do you remember what my father said to me before I killed him?" Ben asks, abruptly.

 

He isn't looking at her anymore. In Rey's room, it seems he is staring at the vine on her wall, but he is likely focusing on something else entirely in his own bedroom. Ben said earlier that he does regret it, but his tone sounds chillingly casual, considering what he's just asked. Rey shudders as a new wave of hurt over Han's death washes over.

 

"No," she says, coldly, in a tone meant to serve as a warning, but Ben either does not notice, or does not mind at all.

 

"He said... He said that Snoke was using me for my power, that once he got what he wanted he would crush me. He was right. I should have listened then. But... I could not. Rey, I'm telling you this so it doesn't happen to you, too."

 

"What?"

 

"This is why the Jedi from the Old Republic failed. Why my grandfather fell. They became tools of the Republic, mercenaries in questionable missions under pretenses of 'keeping the peace'. Force users were never meant to be knights at the service of a government. It is too dangerous a position not to be exploited."

 

"Ben, what are you talking about?"

 

"Your friends. The Resistance. I'm telling you to be cautious around them. Right now, you are useful to them because of your power."

 

Oh no. No, no, no. She will not let him poison this for her. Rey slides away from him, escaping his embrace to sit on the edge of her bed. He follows her, on all fours, but does not touch her.

 

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" she shouts. "My friends love me. That is why I fight for them."

 

"They love you now. But what about later? What happens when they ask you to do something you truly have no wish to do?"

 

"They would not!"

 

"Won't they? They will want you to kill me. You said yesterday you would not do it. Will you?" Rey wants to shout at him that she will, arrogant, unpleasant little twat, but Ben doesn't give her enough time to. "And if your power grows stronger and stronger, beyond what they can comprehend, will they trust you then? It has already begun, Rey. The pilot doesn't trust you."

 

"Poe? Are you mad? Why would you say that?"

 

"You showed me. When you woke up."

 

He was listening to her thoughts when she awoke in his arms, spying inside her mind when her defenses were low. The intrusion is revolting.

 

"I didn't show you. You forced yourself in!"

 

Rey kicks his illusion in the chest to keep him away from her, but he grabs both her feet, startling her enough to stop.

 

"Am I lying? Did you not see?"

 

She remembers the way Poe looked at her after the funeral, the same look he'd had after she destroyed the ships - some of that wariness remained in his eyes when he bid her goodnight. She detests that Ben has to be the one to open her eyes. He lets go of her, seemingly satisfied when understanding dawns upon her, and she really does hate that smug look on his face.

 

"It doesn't mean anything," she protests, but knows she sounds uncertain. "Poe is my friend. He would not betray me."

 

"More than a friend, I think," Ben says, venomously. "He was hoping to spend the night with you."

 

"You _are_ mad."

 

The notion is so ridiculous Rey does not have it in her to be angry at Ben. She looks away from him. But he touches the side of her cheek, firmly without violence, forcing her to face him. He does look mad, the most deranged Rey has seen him today, in fact, but there is something in his gaze that gives her pause, an echo of his earlier _did you not see_. She scans her memory again, and does see Poe's eyes lingering on her lips as she said good night, and does feel a slight disappointment in him when she closed her door. She winces at this, and shakes her head.

 

"He was grieving and sad. He didn't mean it," she says, and Ben laughs, actually laughs at her, an ugly, snarling laugh as if he thought her an idiot. "What are you, jealous or something?" she barks back at him, wishing very much that the Force would just shut down this wretched conversation once and for all.

 

"I am!" Ben says, deadly serious as he meets her gaze with scorching intensity. "I am jealous of anyone who breathes the same air as you, who sees you every day, and can touch the real you with their bare hands."

 

Rey feels a shiver going down her spine. She shouldn't encourage this kind of thinking, dark, possessive, and disturbing, but the raw edge in his voice resonates somewhere deep inside her, in ways that she does not understand fully but that she dives into headfirst, like the cave in Ahch-To where she'd hoped to find her belonging at long last.

 

"You shouldn't be," she tells him, her voice hoarse. "They aren't like you. No one is."

 

No sooner she's said it that she knows it was worth it, just to see the way his gaze softens, and to watch as his anger transforms into utter devotion – but not a quiet, steady devotion: one just as fierce and excessive as everything Ben seems to be capable of feeling, an unquenchable thirst, a bottomless pit, a voracious black hole absorbing everything around it. _You could use this_ , a little voice whispers inside of Rey, dripping with darkness, _there is nothing he would refuse you now if you asked it of him._ No one should have this kind of power over someone, and yet Rey leans into his touch when he brings his other hand to her face.

 

"Rey, I wish I could do this. I wish all of this were real," he says, his voice trembling, and he crushes his mouth against her lips.

 

It's... strange at first. Rey can feel his lips through their bond, wet and soft as they press against her, but there's a certain coldness to it, a dream-like unreality to the gesture. (He has never done this before, Rey realizes, but then again, neither has she.) But what the Force cannot provide in the physical sense, it supplies tenfold in emotions that would otherwise remain unreadable. Ben is clumsy, yet tender, yet forceful, and pours so much hope into this kiss it's a wonder any darkness ever managed to thrive within him. And Rey, stunned at first, then hesitant, then curious, closes her eyes as a familiar longing rages inside herself, and she kisses him back, just as eager as him. The Force hums around them, vibrating in a crescendo that manages to sound both thrilling and terrifying.

 

"Oh," Rey whispers, disappointed when Ben pulls back.

 

He moves his hands from her face to stroke her hair, running his fingers through it, staring at her as if to convince himself that this is real. Or as real as it can be. He presses his nose against her cheek, nuzzling her, but it isn't enough, now that she's tasted his lips Rey wants to savor them for as long as it can be.

 

She moves forward to straddle Ben, her knees to the side of his thighs, and he moans into her kiss as she presses more against him. One of his hands ghosts over her back, the light press of his fingers another trail of kisses down her spine. Her hands are resting on his shoulders for balance, but she copies him, and one of them slides down his chest, tracing over the scar that she left on him. It has nearly faded, now barely a dip in his skin, thin and soft to the touch. _I did this_ , Rey thinks, and Ben lets out a low growl against her lips, sliding his tongue into her mouth. This new point of contact in the Force seems to unfasten even more emotions. As Ben's tongue slides against hers, playfully, she shivers with an unmistakable jolt of arousal that makes their bond glow a little darker. She wonders what it would feel like to lick his scar. One of his hands is wandering up her thigh, and she wonders, too, what it would feel like if it were his mouth instead of his fingers.

 

Rey forgets herself enough to open his mind to him, and letting him hear her suddenly anxious _i want this, this, this, this, i want you_ would be mortifying if he weren't broadcasting these same thoughts just as loudly. She's never done this, either, but she's aware enough of the mechanics to slide a tentative hand between them to try to feel his arousal, but Ben grabs her wrist, and breaks their kiss again to slide away from her.

 

"No," he says, panting against her cheek. "Please. I want... I want the first time to be real."

 

"But how?" Rey all but whimpers at the thought that there might be no first time at all, that it may never happen at all, given what they are, and what they stand for.

 

"I know what I must do to make it possible. Rey. Do you?"

 

"I don't know," she protests, dizzy, not truly understanding what he is on about, "I don't know. Please don't go yet."

 

She slides her arms around him to keep him there with her, and rests her head against his chest. Ben's arms envelop her completely as he holds her tighter, shielding her from her surroundings, greedily shutting her out from anything that isn't their bond. He is still hard against her thigh. His breath, short and uneven, is strangely soothing.

 

"I never did tell you what I saw in my vision," he says, his voice barely a whisper.

 

"What did you see?" Rey asks, knowing he means the first time they touched like this. Her heart gives a thump, beating faster than she thought was possible. _This is important_ , the Force hisses around her.

 

"Children. Dozens of children. I don't know why." Ben's voice breaks. "But they were with us. They weren't... ours. Not of all them. But two of them were."

 

"Ben," she whispers. _Theirs_ , the Force agrees, _two little girls_ , and Rey's heart shatters again, for what feels like one time too many. "It's gone now. It will not happen," she reminds him, trying to shake off the visions, the warmth, and this fantasy that she and Ben can ever hope to steal a moment like this, together, and in peace.

 

"Won't it? I think you know." Ben lets go of her to look into her eyes. There it is, that crazy edge, dark and deranged, but Rey is half certain she's looking at him quite the same way. He takes one of her hands and brings it to his lips to kiss it passionately. "I'll do whatever it takes, Rey. I will. Will you?"

 

Of course he disappears before Rey has a chance to reply. Alone again, she lets out a huff, and then laughs, and then tries to silence the terrible dread that regardless of the inevitable collision course they are on, this is happening, it really is happening, and it will happen whether they are ready for it, or not.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

* * *

 

 

Something is wrong. Rey feels uneasy the moment she wakes up. She sits up briskly, tense like a coil about to snap, and her eyes dart to her lightstaff resting on the wall. But nothing is amiss in her room. Her books are on the desk, just as she left them. Her spare set of clothes is folded on the chair. The flower on the vine has withered during the night, but a new blossom is already growing, like every morning. Of Ben's late night visit no traces remain, though Rey does bring her fingers to her lips to ghost over his phantom kiss.

 

Children, he'd said. Her own vision that day had been uncertain, silhouettes and shapes rather than clear images - not in a single scene, but in a dreamlike patchwork made from pieces of cloth that should not fit together. She had seen children too, but had assumed it was a fragment of Ben's past, in Luke's academy. Not a future of some sort. (A future that can never be.) She allows herself a single sigh of regret, and gets out of bed, does her hair, puts on her clothes, and grabs her lightstaff on the way out. She hesitates before opening her door. She still can't pinpoint where this uneasy feeling is coming from. There's a dull pain in her left arm, but she can see nothing wrong with it as she examines it on the way to the main hall of the base.

 

They buried General Organa the night before, but Poe has already called a general meeting. Grief must not fester, and they do need to agree on their short-term plans, after her death. The Idogorian system had, after all, allowed them to take shelter in Ahuen out of friendship with the late General, but they remained conspicuously absent during the six months they've been stationed there. The Resistance cannot depend on their goodwill forever. There are fifty working vessels, Poe informs them, and close to two hundred survivors. They will need money, but General Organa has graciously left them all the credits in her personal account, to continue rebuilding. They must now decide whether to keep Ahuen as their main base, or to leave, and if so, where in the Galaxy. Rey half-listens to all this, standing near the single radar screen they managed to install on the old base, refurbished from a ship. There's nothing on the screen. Nothing threatens them. The pain in her arm is sharper now, and has spread to the rest of her body. She has to lean on her lightstaff for balance. Even breathing is becoming harder.

 

"We should leave," Rey says, when there's a pause in the debate.

 

She should tell them why, but she can't make herself to. How would she explain it? Ben knows where they are, and while she believes he was sincere in his promise, she does not trust him to uphold it. It would take a simple fit of rage for him to send his squadrons to squash them. They are no longer safe.

 

"I agree," Poe says, and flashes her a tired smile.

 

Rey had expected him to antagonize her, somehow, and she lets out a sigh of relief. That was Ben doing her mind in: in broad daylight, Poe is polite and friendly. There's nothing sinister about him. Lieutenant Connix produces a list of potentially friendly systems they could relocate to – or, at least, systems that were friendly before the conflict broke out. Scouts will need to be sent to make sure they are still potential allies, and other scouts should be sent to purchase new ships and new equipment with the greatest secrecy. Rey thinks of what Finn told her about the Canto Bight arm dealers, and the lavish lifestyles they led while children starved in utter poverty. The idea they will be giving them more even money is nauseating. Not figuratively – Rey moves to the nearest chair as a strange dizziness makes it impossible for her to keep standing.

 

"Are you okay?" Rose whispers not to interrupt this meeting, moving closer to her.

 

"I'm fine. Is there something I could drink?"

 

Is it possible for heads to burst from a headache? It certainly feels like it at the moment. The pain has left Rey's left arm numb now, and when she squeezes her hand open she feels nothing at all. The water Rose brings her is but a brief respite. Perhaps she is getting ill. She never used to get sick in Jakku, removed as she was from any kind of human contact. Her first cold, after Ahch-To, was quite the shock, to Finn's amusement. But this is something else entirely, something strange. Something wrong. But she must speak up, the Force is urging her to.

 

"Any other matters to discuss today?" Poe asks, casting a circular glance around the rest of the assembled members.

 

"I'd like to discuss our long-term goals," Rey says, in a hoarse voice that doesn't sound like hers. Some heads to turn look at her in wonder. "What is to be done when we win?" she adds, placing emphasis on the _when_ (not _if_ ).

 

"We will worry about that when we get there."

 

Rey shakes her head. She remembers what Ben showed her in his thoughts - the cold indifference of leaders in other planets. The nearly unanimous sentiment that each planet should fend off for itself.

 

"No. I'd like to be reminded what we are fighting for. What our goals are."

 

More heads turn towards her. Rey tries not to feel nervous, but so many eyes on her do make her vaguely uncomfortable. _They are friendly_ , she tells herself. _These are your friends_. Her forehead is warm and damp, some hair is clinging to it. Is this a fever? She does not feel warm. Or cold, for that matter. She feels nothing at all.

 

"After we defeat the First Order," Poe indulges, though he sounds a little annoyed to have to spell this out, "we will re-establish the Republic, and restore freedom and democracy across the Galaxy."

 

That is... a little vague, is it not? There need to be more concrete goals or plans other than "democracy" or "freedom", something to convince every system they will visit to join their cause. _Free the slaves,_ the Force hisses around her, with a strange inflection she's never heard before. A male voice, with a strange accent that reminds her of the desert in Jakku. She thinks of the children in Canto Bight, again, then looks at Rose.

 

"No more child labor," Rose says suddenly, looking just as surprised as the rest of the Resistance for having spoken up for the first time in council.

 

Everyone agrees, naturally. Rey wonders if she did that, if she forced that thought onto Rose, or made her aware of it. Or maybe her friend thought about that on her own. It's... worrying to have that kind of power, whatever it is. Intrigued, Rey glances at Finn next, only to find he is looking at her too.

 

"Rehabilitate the stormtroopers," he says.

 

This is a bit of a harder sell, and approval is not unanimous. Conditioning training is said to be notoriously difficult to overcome.

 

"Is it... possible?" Lieutenant Connix asks.

 

"It was possible for me."

 

"Not everyone is as strong as you were," Poe says. "But if it is at all possible, then perhaps so."

 

They are arguing, which is a good sign already. The tension in the Force relaxes a little, as if it sighed in relief, but too briefly, and the heavy shadow returns full force. _We'll be okay_ , Rey tells herself (tells the Force?), _we'll manage just fine_. But there is so much... anger around her. Or not quite anger. Anguish. The War will never stop, even if they win – the certainty of it is heartbreaking. Rey tries to take a deep breath, but finds she just cannot. The shallow breath that she manages to let out catches in her throat.

 

"Rey?" Finn asks, in alarm. They are all staring at her again.

 

"Disarmament," she croaks, and tries a deep breath again, with little success. "Galactic disarmament."

 

This should be their only goal, otherwise the cycle will repeat again and again, endlessly, across the ages with no end in sight. It would eliminate arm dealers, child labor and military indoctrination in a single swoop. Evil will always rise, but good must set the bar higher. The buzz in Rey's ears is unbearable, barely letting her hear the arguments against her petition ( _impossible, disarmament is precisely what started this war, naïve utopia, what would we do if another First Order rises_ ), and then Finn's voice again, louder than the rest.

 

"Rey, are you alright?!"

 

The jolt is as violent as an earthquake, as if an enormous boulder knocked her off her chair. Rey jumps to her feet, disoriented. The pain in her arm and the buzz in her ears have disappeared, and when she blinks, she sees Ben. Ben, and all of his surroundings, for the first time. Rey screams. A military base. Fire, everywhere. Fire, smoke, and blood. Ben is crouching down, howling in pain, surrounded by at least a dozen stormtroopers that are firing at will. He is managing to deflect the shots ( _all of them_ ), but his power is dwindling with alarming speed. Only his pain is sustaining him.

 

Pain. Rey screams again.

 

All of Ben's left arm is burned to the bone, the charred skin black and red as the limb hangs limply to his side. His face is covered in cuts and bruises, and there's a pool of blood at his feet, oozing down from his thigh. He is only using his right hand to stop the shots with the Force, so he cannot wield his lightsaber. His irises have taken on a deep, unnatural shade of yellow, and his entire face is contorted with pain.

 

"Go away, Rey!" he shouts, but the effort distracts him enough to miss one of the shots. It grazes his chest, and blood sprays out on the gray of his robes. He stumbles back.

 

"Never," Rey says, and ignites her staff.

 

She can't fully cross over, but she can be enough of a distraction. At least, that's what she tells herself as she jumps into the fray. Her lightstaff, it turns out, isn't necessary: the stomp she gives as she lands right next to Ben is powerful enough to knock over the circle of stormtroopers surrounding them. They fall over backwards, stunned, and when she draws a circle with her staff their blasters fly away from their hands. She turns off the lightstaff, surprised that it worked at all.

 

"How are you doing this!" Ben roars. "You're going to die!"

 

"No one's going to die, Ben. I'm not, and you aren't going to, either."

 

"I am," he whispers. She kneels over by him, trying to assess the damage to his body, but he jerks away from her. His yellow eyes are terrifying. "Don't touch me. Go away!"

 

"No, no, no. You called me! Don't you dare shut me out now."

 

She grabs him by his good arm before their link can fade, managing to stay anchored in his reality as their skins come into contact. Ben growls at this, and Rey growls back as all of his pain spills over into her own body, slamming against her and stunning her for a few seconds. He's worse than she thought, the pain in his left arm immense. How has he managed to stay conscious? Her eyes fill with tears as she surveys the charred limb, barely stifling a sob.

 

"What happened?"

 

"There was... an uprising. They had flamethrowers, I couldn't... Too many."

 

She becomes aware of more of his surroundings as he surrenders his mind to hers. An enormous hangar filled with ships, the long, horizontal door yawning open towards the star. Every single aircraft is on fire. Outside, in her line of view, the largest one, as tall as a mountain, is split down the middle and sunk down in a vertical position in what appears to be a lake.

 

"I destroyed them," Ben says, quietly. "All of them. This is our main base."

 

And the smell. The smell of death, the unmistakable stench of death poisons the air, swirling as the darkness of the Force absorbs it and releases it into the stifling atmosphere. Ben did this. He's killed _thousands_ of soldiers. She sees, too, that hundreds of stormtroopers remain, and are rushing to the aid of those she knocked over, egged on by five officers in their loathsome gray uniforms. Hux, the red-haired general from Ben's memories, is one of them, though his face is so distorted with hate she barely recognizes him. Treacherous weasel! Rey trembles with anger at the sight of him. Ben must have underestimated his zeal and his resourcefulness.

 

"Ben," she says, pressing her cheek to his face to be closer to his ear. "There's only five of them left. You can do it. I will deal with the stormtroopers."

 

No sooner has she said it that she realizes what she is asking. It should frighten her, perhaps, that she feels no hesitation, and certainly no remorse - only furious resolve. Rey starts pushing out thoughts for the closest stormtroopers to feel impossibly tired, sleepy, too heavy to move.

 

"I can't," Ben says. "I can't."

 

He starts slumping backwards, as if meaning to let himself fall, but Rey crouches behind him, spooning him from behind and supporting him upright as she lowers him enough to sit.

 

"You can! We can."

 

Around them, more stormtroopers drop, and she steadies on sending out her commands to sleep. His blood feels slicks and warm against her. She tries not to squeeze him too hard as she slides her arms around his chest, not wanting to hinder his shallow breaths. His sudden resolve surges like a dark beacon in the Force, and he moans in pain as he gathers what little remains of his strength. _For you_ , Ben thinks, and extends his right arm towards the five officers.

 

At his invocation, the Force swirls around the two of them in a monstrous vortex and channels itself into his extended hand. Rey braces herself, but nothing could have prepared her for the vicious burst of darkness that thunders out of Ben's open palm. Darkness is supposed to be nothing, or to be the absence of Light, but in that brief moment it most definitely is a tangible _thing_ , powerful and horrendous as it explodes at the feet of the remaining officers, like a jolt of lightning made out of thick, disquieting black matter. Ben shouts, as if the pain were tearing him apart, but he does not falter in his attack. No wonder he thought he would die, Rey thinks, in a haze of panic: the effort is monumental. She holds him tighter, absorbing as much as she can of the terrible darkness that is seeping out from every pore of his skin, and screams out in pain as it too drowns her and suffocates all the light still present inside of her - grief and anguish becoming flesh.

 

The officers fall, one by one, their limbs torn out violently as Ben directs his hand towards them. The last one standing is Hux. He is trying to ignite a flamethrower discarded by a sleeping stormtrooper, but before he can power it on, his neck snaps to the side, broken, and he collapses.

 

It's over.

 

Ben goes limp in Rey's arms.

 

"Ben, no!" she shouts, cradling him against her.

 

She'd had a lot of time to think, on the flight from Ahch-To to the Supremacy, about what Ben would look like when he turned to the Light side. She'd imagined a newfound softness in his gaze, a tired smile, maybe some tears, poignant but solemn. She did not imagine it would be anything like this. She perceives Ben's shape, brighter than it has ever been, yet a storm of light and shadows rages inside him – more settled, perhaps, but no less violent. His eyes have lost their unnatural yellow tint, but his face is still ravaged by the terrible pain, and each of his sobs rattles his chest and reverberates against Rey. Not a furious Sith Lord, but also not a serene Jedi Knight. Only a young man, tormented and broken, who singlehandedly destroyed the greatest threat to the Galaxy likely at the cost of his life.

 

"It's better like this," Ben says, following her thoughts but delirious from his wounds. "I was going to ask... I was going to _demand_ you leave your friends and join me. Again. Why am I like this?" Laughter bubbles up through his tears, as if he just now realized how outrageous that sounds. "But you won't have to, now. You'll be with them, and you'll be happy."

 

"How can you think I'll ever be happy after this? After you?"

 

"You will. Everyone is. But not me."

 

"Ben, please."

 

Rey presses their cheeks together, Ben's tears mixing with her own. He is slipping out of consciousness, tethered to life only by the thin strand of their bond.

 

"Three cruises still operational," he says, barely audible. "Couldn't reach them. Two in the Core. One in the Mid Rim. Find them. Defeat them."

 

"We'll defeat them together, after you get better. Where is your personal ship? Can it still fly?"

 

"Think so."

 

"Then get up and find it. Find the med-droids. Get away from there!"

 

"Can't. Hurts..."

 

If only she could fly and meet him, wherever he is, and drag him to the med-bay! But it will be much too late by the time she reaches him. She cannot allow this to happen. Rey will not sit there and watch Ben die in her arms. She needs a way to heal him... Yes, she read something like this in the Texts, though they urged for enormous caution if using the Force for this, the costs for the healer much too grievous to be a reliable tool. She doesn't care. Rey closes her eyes and sifts into the Force, becoming one with it, pure energy that latches onto Ben's battered body. Her knowledge of anatomy is scarce, but the Force supplies it, and spends itself eagerly as it repairs the charred tissue of Ben's left arm.

 

"Your island," Ben whispers. His heartbeart pulses against hers, bursting anew with life. "I see it now. Ahch-To..."

 

But nothing is created in a vacuum, and for every gain there must be a loss. Rey lets out a hiss as her own skin tissue starts disintegrating to become part of Ben's. She nearly stops on pure instinct, but the Force will not let her go, not now, its monstrous hold on her a deadly chain that only takes and takes and takes once the process has begun. Rey screams, suddenly remembering the warnings of the Texts, but it's too late, and her own left arm starts to burn. Ben's eyes, more lucid now, stare at her in dismay. He is saying something. ( _I love you._ ) He is begging her to stop, but she cannot let go. ( _This wasn't supposed to happen._ ) She is so shaken to the very core of her being by unspeakable agony that she is thrown back to Ahuen, brutally and without warning.

 

She is on the cold floor of the meeting room, writhing in pain. Her arm is blackened and burned, just as Ben's was, smelling of burnt flesh. She retches at the sight of it.

 

"What did he do to you?!" Finn is shouting, next to her, trying to hold her upright.

 

Rey becomes aware of them through a thick fog that seems to fade and clear with the throbs of her arm. She has destroyed the table in the meeting room. Somewhere to her left, three people lie on the floor, unconscious (asleep?), and people are tending to them frantically. On the other side of the room, away from her, the rest of her beloved friends stare at her, their faces twisted in horror. She was shouting Ben's name all the time, wasn't she. They know now. Her terrible secret is out, and there is nowhere to run, not in her state. She is shaking. The cold bile in her throat tastes of panic, but she must speak, before she passes out.

 

"The war is over," she manages to say. "Ben Solo has obliterated the First Order."

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit longer than usual! I've decided to split the current chapter into two and to upload the 2 parts in one go (mostly because I thought it was a little evil to leave it where this chapter ends).
> 
> The rating has been changed to Explicit because of Chapter 8 - apparently I'm unable to be not graphic when describing stuff, so I changed it to be safe.
> 
> The last chapter might take a bit long again because real life is being annoying, but it'll come, don't fret.

* * *

 

 

When Rey comes to, she becomes immediately aware of two presences in her room, not quite hostile, but irradiating concern. She opens her eyes slowly, to find she is lying on her bed, in her bedroom, and that her left arm is encased in a small flexypoly bacta sleeve. She winces at the sight of the damaged flesh, still blackened, raw – it likely is still too soon for the healing to extend to all of her arm. Finn is seated on a chair, next to her bed, his chin propped under his fists. Poe is standing by the door, arms crossed. Rey would give anything to be that simple scavenger of Jakku once more, to be unable to sense the unspeakable sadness that floats in the room between the three of them. A single med-droid beeps anxiously, fussing over her arm and giving diagnoses she does not listen to. It must have come from one of the larger ships.

 

"How long have I been out?" Rey croaks. Her throat is hoarse from all the screaming, earlier.

 

"Nearly six hours," Finn answers.

 

Six hours! Enough time for Ben to... to... Rey questions their bond at once, disregarding the fact that both Finn and Poe are there in the room – just to feel him, not to communicate with him. But she finds only silence in the Force. _No, no, no_ , she wants to scream, even as her mind scrambles to come up with plausible, sensible reasons why this might be. ( _He could be_ _dead.)_ She could be too tired from the earlier connection. Luke had fully crossed over, and it had killed him. She did not quite manage to insert herself into Ben's surroundings, though she was able to alter them. The effort has left her thoroughly drained. Vulnerable. _Alone_.

 

"Rey," Poe says, still standing by the door of her room, leaning against the wall. "What happened out there? What came over you?"

 

Rey flexes her hand into a fist, or rather tries to, but nothing happens. _Extensive nerve damage_ , the med-droid chirps helpfully, _submersion in non-synthetic bacta is highly recommended_. There isn't any, not on their base. She swallows – she needs that arm to use her staff, how is she going to...? And how to begin explaining, in words that they will understand? She cannot even look at them in the eye.

 

"Ben Solo and I are linked in the Force, for reasons I don't understand. It cannot be controlled, or at least, not very well."

 

Finn lowers his head and hides his face in his hands.

 

"So how does it work?" Poe asks, his tone clipped as he waves a hand impatiently. "Are you in his head? Is he is in yours?"

 

Poe was tortured by the First Order and had his mind read by Kylo Ren. Rey flinches when she remembers this. She remembers her own interrogation, and how he had forced himself into her thoughts, the ordeal distressing and _wrong_ until she pushed back to read his own mind, like seeing through a distorted mirror. Poe never had the luxury of evening it out, or of gaining the upper hand. He never experienced anything like her and Ben's later conversations, the exhilarating relief of letting her guard down when Ben touched her, and to be able to read him like an open book from the contact. For Poe, mind-reading and using the Force must inherently be a monstrous experience - it pains her to realize that's why he's been so skittish around her.

 

"Poe... It isn't... It's mutual. It does not _hurt_. When it happens... we can see each other. We can talk. I have been in his head, yes. Today, he let me see his surroundings. He reached for me because he was close to dying. I'm not... I'm not sure that he did not."

 

He lets out a huff. Rey feels tears welling up in her eyes, but refuses to cry. She might have, some months before, but she will not, not now. She should have expected this – what was she hoping would happen? Did she think it could remain a secret forever? She keeps her chin up, lips pursed, and she hopes it does not look like defiance, or arrogance.

 

"But he did hurt you today," Finn says, shaking his head.

 

"That wasn't him. He was badly injured, and I tried to heal him, but I don't think I was skilled enough not to absorb the damage myself. He would have died otherwise."

 

"I hope you understand my position," Poe says, very slowly, as if he were afraid of her reaction, "when I say that Kylo Ren dying would have tipped this war significantly more in our favor. And until today, I thought you shared this view as well."

 

"There is no war anymore. I told you. There was... an insurrection in their main base. Ben destroyed everything. Their fleet is no longer operational, save for three vessels."

 

"Come on, Rey! No one can destroy an _entire_ fleet."

 

"A Force user could. At great cost, yes, but they could. I have. I destroyed two of our ships, don't you remember?" Poe flinches at this, and breaks eye contact, but Rey does not back down. "And I wasn't even _trying_ then. The ability to destroy inanimate objects is insignificant compared to the power of the Force."

 

Those words... Someone else said something similar, long before her, someone darker, whose imprint in the Force reminds her of Ben. Rey has heard that voice before, asking her to free the slaves. But the shadow passes as swiftly as it came, and she can only blink in confusion. It was... wrong of her to say that. Poe is no longer looking at her, his gaze distant. Hurt.

 

"Rey," Finn says. "Kylo Ren is bad news. I don't know what you think he's become now, but he's pure evil. Everyone on base was terrified of him, of the things he could do with his mind."

 

"There's nothing Kylo Ren can do with his mind that I can't do myself," Rey says softly, and the old, hated name tastes foreign on her lips.

 

She thinks of the fearsome darkness bursting out of Ben's fingers - _could_ she do that? There's not enough darkness in her, she knows it, but could she harness light in the same way, and wield it just as powerfully? Instead of apprehensive, she only feels eager to try it. The Force feeds on her natural curiosity. A whimper wells up inside her when she understands how far she's strayed from her friends, not just by being drawn into Ben's orbit, but by having studied the ways of the Force at all. The path of the Jedi is a lonely one, the Texts said. She sees why now, when Finn stares at her with a mix of disbelief and sadness.

 

"Even then, how do you know what he's shown you is true?" he still argues, and she loves him for his earnestness, his almost naive certainty that he can change her mind. "How do you know he didn't make this up in his head for you to see?"

 

"What held our bond together would not allow lies. It was threatened by darkness at first, but even then we never lied to each other. The wind would not lie. The rain would not lie."

 

She only realizes how dogmatic it sounds after she's said it, and to their ears it must sound like something out of a holodrama, and not a leap of faith. They have no reason to believe her. A defiant voice in her mind tells her she doesn't need to be believed, as long as _she_ believes.

 

"Enough of this," Poe says, abruptly. "How long have you been communicating with him?"

 

"Since I found Skywalker on Ahch-To."

 

He blanches at this.

 

"That long! So he could have known... you might have told him..."

 

"Where we are? He knows. He's known for months, and he did not attack."

 

Poe doesn't say anything for a long time, seemingly too stunned to process what she's just told him. Rey minds her arm, then, the bacta slowly mending its way up the damaged area. The droid estimates that only up to eighty percent of her tissue will be healed after treatment. There will be scars, and possibly limited mobility. She wonders, again, if Ben is alright, if her healing saved him at all, if his own arm has a better prognosis. She still cannot sense him in the Force, and that is, perhaps, more maddening than the slow agony in her left arm.

 

"I need to find him," she says. "I will leave within the hour."

 

"No," Poe says. "Absolutely not. I cannot allow this."

 

" _Allow_ ?"

 

Her voice comes out deep and hoarse, like thunder threatening to crack. Rey cannot help laughing in disbelief. The fist at the end of her damaged arm does curl in anger now, despite the pain – so much for nerve damage. There it is, the same dark little edge that wanted to beat Luke Skywalker to an inch of his life when she found out what he did to Ben, before she caught herself. _This is Poe_ , she tells herself to calm down, _your friend_. The droid chirps that she should not try to use her hand yet, but only Finn's anxious stare manages to make her unclench her fist.

 

"You are a fighter of the Resistance," Poe argues, though his voice is shaky. "Our best asset."

 

"Our best _friend_ ," Finn interjects.

 

"And yet I must go. Not forever. I will return as soon as I can, to help you restore peace across the Galaxy. I promise."

 

Rey slides on the bed to sit on the edge of it, placing a tentative foot on the cold floor. Finn must have removed her shoes before he placed her in bed. The droid protests again (she should not try to stand yet), but she only smiles at it. Poe is pacing now, though there isn't much room for that in her tiny bedroom.

 

"Rey, you don't understand. You communicated our location to our most dangerous enemy. You are planning to join him. You attacked three of our people while talking to him."

 

"I hurt them?" Rey's heart stops. "Are they alright?"

 

"They're fine," Finn says. "Just a little shaken. They said they just really wanted to sleep."

 

Rey lets out a sigh of relief, though the guilt does not lessen. Her commands to sleep, meant for the stormtroopers surrounding Ben, likely spilled over to her own reality without her intention. She should apologize to them. But Poe has moved closer to her, speaking more forcefully, and reminding her she is supposed to feel incredulous that he thinks anyone will stop her from finding Ben - alive or dead.

 

"Can't you see how this looks?" he says. "I cannot let you go."

 

"Can't _you_ see how this looks? Are you planning to be a dictator after you win?"

 

"Rey," Finn says, evidently trying to stop her from saying something she might regret.

 

Rey stands now, shakily at first, but manages to steady herself. She can do this. Nothing is wrong with her body, apart from the pain in her arm, and the exhaustion still eating her away.

 

"I'm not sure I want to be part of a republic where I am not free to rescue a friend who helped us. A friend that I love."

 

Both Poe and Finn cringe visibly at this, but saying it out loud fills her with the strength she was missing until then. She marches up to Poe, but he cowers slightly, waving his hands to explain himself.

 

"This isn't a republic yet," he says. "This is a war. Hundreds died last time I failed to understand this difference, including the best woman I've ever known. I will not make that mistake again. We will not lose you, Rey."

 

"The war. Is. Over," she says, drawing out every word. "Ben Solo saw to that. And you will only lose me if you try to stop me."

 

"Rey, Rey. Stop." It's Finn again, moving to stand between them. Rey stops walking, suddenly aware she must look threatening if he thinks he must intervene like this – and dismayed that she did not realize it herself. "Stop it, both of you. We're all pretty upset here. It's only making it worse. Let's talk about this tomorrow, after Rey has had time to rest. I don't know what that droid is beeping about, but if it's saying she should not be out of bed until her arm is healed, I'm inclined to agree with it."

 

"Alright," Rey says.

 

"Alright," Poe echoes, and sounds relieved.

 

She extends her arms to Finn, and though puzzled by the request, he complies, and hugs her tightly. She wraps her good arm around him, committing the shape of him and his warmth to her memory. She bites her lip. Oh, she's going to miss him terribly. But if this is what it takes, then so be it. _I was going to_ demand _you leave your friends_ , Ben had said, delirious from the pain. She would have never agreed, before. And yet...

 

She promises Finn that she will rest, and pretends not to notice that they lock the door from the outside when they leave.   

 

* * *

 

 

 

As Rey makes her silent way out of the sleeping Resistance base, it strikes her that no one could have guessed that a door lock would not be enough to stop her - with General Organa dead, no one else among them knows anything about the Force. And especially these locks, made with primitive metal bolts that align inside like a child's puzzle. She might not have found it as trivial had they been standard digital locks requiring a numeric combination, or biometric recognition. But she slips away undisturbed, like a thief in the night, cloaked in darkness, with just her staff on her back along with a bundle with the books, her spare clothes, and the wallflower she could not bear to be parted from. Rey hardly ever found plants on Jakku, but the ones she did rescue from the unforgiving sands thrived in her little habitat. If they survived, so can this vine, and she'll see to it. 

  
The moon of the planet lights the way to where the Falcon is stationed, and if she weren't trying to hide, it would in fact be a lovely walk on the deserted beach, the shadows giving the snow and the sand an eerie appearance, from another world entirely. She'll miss Ahuen. She will miss all of this. She covers her footsteps on the snow with the Force as she walks by, so that they cannot reconstruct how she escaped come the morning. It won't really matter, she supposes, since she will be far from there then. But she must go unnoticed until she is airborne, at the very least. If her fate stubbornly persists to mirror Ben's, she would rather not find that she must fight her friends (or worse) to be able to leave them. She does not want to test whether she is strong enough to bear such pain.

 

But she senses someone as she nears the Falcon, someone awake enough to be keeping vigil near the ship. It isn't Chewie. Rey hesitates. She should probably put that person to sleep, as she did with Ben's stormtroopers, but the Resistance fighters already suffered an involuntary display of such power from her - the guilt from that is still too fresh. ( _The Force is a power to control people_ , she'd told Luke in Ahch-To. It makes her sick to this day.) In any case, she must get a clear view of them before she decides whether to neutralize whatever threat they may present. Rey moves closer, more stealthily, her heart beating faster. If she can help it at all, she will not hurt them. She will not. As she nears the ship, she can make out the person in the moonlight, huddled under what seems to be three or four blankets, sitting by the ramp of the Falcon.

 

It's Rose. Please, no.

 

Rey isn't sure she said something out loud in her anguish, or made a gesture to reveal herself, but Rose looks up in her direction at once.

 

"I knew you'd come here soon enough," she says, and shakes off her cocoon of blankets.

 

"I'm so sorry," Rey says, hands trembling. She cannot hurt Rose. She could never. "Please don't hate me for this, Rose."

 

Rose flicks on a small lantern. It gives her face a strange, blue glow as she walks closer to her. Rey takes one step back. Just one. The ramp of the Falcon has been left open, and really, she could just push Rose to the side, run for it, and call it a night. But she does not move. Rose does not stop until she is standing very close to her. She stares up at Rey, and says nothing at all for an excruciatingly long and uncomfortable moment.

 

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" she says at last, very softly.

 

"Yes," Rey says, and lets out a shaky breath.

 

The tears she would not shed in front of Finn and Poe seem to come out all at once. In front of Rose, it's a relief, but she still bites her lips to rein herself in. She may still have to run for it.

 

"Rey..." Rose says, but visibly struggles to find anything to reply to that.

 

"I know it doesn't _excuse_... any of the horrible things he's done. Or that you have to believe me when I say that I'll be fine. But I must go to him. I have to know if he's alright. I can't... I can't feel him, he's been too quiet, and he was badly hurt."

 

"So are you."

 

Rose gestures at the bacta sleeve that Rey has not yet removed. She's been afraid to, really. Last time she glanced at it, just before leaving, the burned tissue looked superficially fine. She does not want to find that really, it isn't. Rose reaches forward, and Rey's first instinct is to recoil, but she realizes that she is only trying to hold hands with her. It's such a sweet, unexpected gesture. Rey feels entirely undeserving of it, and more so when Rose speaks again.

 

"I think you should go," she says, with the saddest smile.

 

"What...? Really?"

 

"Yes! But listen. If he ever hurts you, you come right back to us. We'll hunt him down and make him pay. All of us. Okay?"

 

"I'll be fine." Rey lets out a short laugh, but nods nonetheless. "But Finn and Poe... they didn't want me to go. I don't think they'll understand if you... if you..."

 

"They're boys," Rose says, with a roll of her eyes. "It'll take them a while to understand. I've got your back. Always. But please don't prove me wrong."

 

Rey's arm cannot be in such bad shape after all, because hugging Rose this tightly would not be possible otherwise.

 

"I'll come back," she tells her, pulling back just enough to look at her, and to wipe her own tears with her good hand. "There's still so much to do."

 

"Didn't you say the war is over?"

 

"It is. It's the after that will be the hardest." Rey looks up, at the stars that are visible from Ahuen -peace such an abstract concept in the wake of the immense scatter of all the systems in the Galaxy. "I don't think anyone likes being told what to do without being asked what they want."

  
"Everyone wants peace," Rose says.

 

"Yes. But how? I'm not sure all the systems will desire a single republic, not after what's happened. Not after the last one failed them. We should ask them. Not impose."

 

" _That_ will be a much harder sell. You'll have to convince Poe of that yourself, don't count on me," Rose quips, but she's only half joking.

 

"Tell him... Tell Poe I'm sorry for what Kylo Ren did to him, that time on the ship. I know he should be the one apologizing, and I hope that one day he will do it himself, but..."

 

"I don't know that he'll listen. Maybe you should write it," Rose says, and hands her over the small datapad that she usually keeps in her pocket.

 

Rey taps the screen on and hesitates. He would not listen, would he. No apology could ever be enough. But she still does wish to make amends, or start making them. She scribbles the coordinates of the three remaining vessels, that she pried from Ben's mind as he faded in her arms. Perhaps this might work as a peace offering. Rose puts the datapad away without looking at it when Rey hands it over.

 

"Besides, if you thought I'd be the greatest obstacle to your escape, you were wrong."

 

Rey follows Rose's gaze up the ramp of the Falcon, where Chewie stands curiously. He lets out a disapproving purr and disappears into the ship before she can manage a greeting. She's right. With Han gone, with Leia gone, the ship has no other owner but Chewie. Rey would not have presumed to fly it without his leave. She does not even dare to hope he might want to come along, too. One last hug to Rose and a promise to be happy (a promise to be _safe_ ), and she hurries up the ramp after Chewie.

 

She finds him sitting in the common area, looking downwards as he pets a lone porg, his enormous frame barely fitting into the seat wrapping around the circular table. Rey sits next to him, cautious, and reaches to touch one of his arms. Gray patches have slowly been appearing on his fur over the past months, starting after Han's murder. She tries not to dwell on that, though something seems to be caught in her throat, and she has to cough to be able to speak.

 

"I need to find Ben again," she tells him.

 

He had warned her against it the first time, after Ahch-To. He didn't want to have anything to do with that boy, he'd said. Not ever. But Rey had pleaded and pleaded, and had convinced him Ben could still be saved. That will not work again. Today, Chewie shakes his head and grunts a very emphatic no.

 

"I know you don't want to see him. You don't have to. I could drop you off in your home planet, or anywhere else you'd rather be. Or you can leave me with him when we find him, and return here if that is what you prefer."

 

Again, Chewie refuses. With Leia gone, he says, he does not want to stay with the Resistance. And there is no home for him, not anymore. He has nowhere to be. Rey's heart aches at the echo of that familiar grief.

 

"Please, Chewie. I think... I think he'd like it if you came," she says, softly. "I know I would."

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating has been upped to Explicit!
> 
> I uploaded both 7 and 8 today, make sure you've read 7.

* * *

 

 

As they leave Ahuen's orbit, closer to the stars dear to the Force, the bond flares up again, luminous and vivid. Rey basks in the soft glow of the certainty that Ben is alive somewhere in the same galaxy - unsmiling, but not angry; hurt, but not distressed. He does not cross over to her reality, but she feels him near, curling up somewhere against her heart and hiding there, pulsating bright with each beat. The whispers in the Force take on a soft, pleading edge, _come find me_ , and Rey sees Ahch-To through Ben's eyes; the dark, round cavern battered by relentless waves; the tall tree, thinner and frail, licked by flames (flames?); the rock where Luke must have met his end, alone and spent. I see your island now, Ben had told her when she healed him, though she barely remembers anything else he said then. She punches in the coordinates into the flight pad of the Falcon with some reluctance: she'd have much rather never returned to Ahch-To. She glances back at the Texts, uneasy. The island where it all began, the Jedi, the Temple, the teachings of the Force. Perhaps it is fitting that the last two Jedi (however a stretch it is to call Ben one) choose to meet there, at the end of the war.

 

Once they jump to hyperspace, Rey busies herself trying to find organic bacta in the bowels of the ship. Most was recomissioned by the Resistance, but with so many drawers and hidden panels there might be a chance that a fresh supply was stored somewhere, years ago. Chewie's porg has taken a liking to her, and perches on her shoulder as she rummages around the old smuggling ship.

 

"You're going to see your siblings," she tells it, and it squeaks at her excitedly.

 

Instead of bacta, she finds a white box stuffed in a drawer with gauze lacquered in some sort of antiseptic, enough to make a bandage over the damaged tissue that the artificial bacta did not manage to heal. The medicine is primitive, but still better than nothing. Rey finishes wrapping her arm with it by the time they drop into Ahch-To's system, and tries a few tentative squeezes. Her grip lacks its usual strength, but she tells herself it will improve with time. Time and training. It has to.

 

She walks back to the cockpit as they enter the atmosphere, and her breath catches at the sight of the immense ocean, and the green hills that she always saw in dreams without understanding. It feels like coming home, in a way. They are flying low enough for her to make out some details in the terrain: on the long marsh leading to the caretakers' village, the dark outline where a First Order ship has been stationed. _Ben_ , she calls out in her mind. And she senses him whipping his head towards the skies, his imprint glowing bright with hope. _Rey_ , he says, inside her head, so loud and clear it sends a shiver down her spine.

 

She had expected him to be waiting by the ramp when she lowers it, mirroring the last time they'd been so physically near. But he isn't there to meet her. Only the rain greets her, the same relentless drizzle that by her recollection starts early in the morning and peaks as the suns set. _It's a long way down_ , he tells her via their bond, and she can feel him hurrying in his descent. Chewie grumbles he'll not set one foot on this planet before Ben has the decency to come speak to him, and the little porg darts off to meet its kin, leaving Rey to fend for herself. She eyes her lightstaff, but decides against taking it. She isn't going to meet an enemy. Not anymore.

 

Rey does not have to look long, Ben's silhouette unmistakable against the background of the green hills. She rolls her eyes a little at his obvious touch for the dramatic, as the cape he wears flows with the wind. _Must you always find fault in my choice of dress?_ he chides, and she cannot help laughter bubbling up to her lips. The rain, ever contrarian, has chosen to intensify just then, making her ascent somewhat more treacherous on the slippery steps. But once Ben draws near enough to be able to distinguish him clearly, Rey stops dead in her tracks. He isn't wearing a cape. He is wearing Luke's brown cloak, though it is too small to fit him as it was intended to be worn, and he's simply wrapped it around himself to make the most of the warm cloth. Ben stops too, sensing her hesitation and her disquiet, and drops to his knees, hands open as if to make himself look unthreatening.

 

"I'm not wearing it like a trophy," he says, his gaze dark with guilt. His voice (his _real_ voice, clear and undistorted by the Force bond) sounds deeper than Rey remembered, though no less unsettling.

 

"That isn't... That isn't what I thought," she says. "My mind didn't go there at all. Did yours?"

 

"It crossed my mind," he admits, "after I'd dressed in it. But... it also smelled like him."

 

She should be used to his duality by now, the soft fondness of his tone mingling with harshness, but it still leaves her disturbed, and yet unafraid. Rey takes a few more steps closer to him. Strange how the Force bond allowed them to touch freely, but now, confronted with the physicality of their bodies, neither of them seems willing to close the distance. Even though Ben is kneeling, legs sinking into the soft mud, the incline of the hill lets them be at eye level if she remains upright. His dark eyes seem immense now that they stand so close, glossy from tears he is just barely holding back. She is shaking, and not just from the cold rain that is making her clothes stick to her skin.

 

"I did not know whether you'd come," he says, his voice clipped as he attempts to rein himself in to speak, with little success. "I couldn't feel you. I didn't know whether to hope, or..."

 

"Or to despair?" Rey completes, with a sad smile. "You should have known better."

 

"I've killed thousands of people, thousands more than when you last saw me. Thousands more upon the thousands whose blood was already on my hands. I stood by as an entire system was obliterated. I killed my father. And Luke too, in a way."

 

"I know all of that."

 

"And you still came?"

 

"And I still came." Rey lets some tears spill now, though not as much as Ben. It's hard to guess where the tears begin and where the rain ends. "I saw you destroy the First Order. I know the boy behind the monster. And I know he wants all this to end."

 

"I do," Ben whispers.

 

He is staring at her like she has all the answers. Rey cannot help a flicker of pride, his complete submission to her both satisfying and terrifying in ways that remind her, again, of the whispers of the dark cave in the eastern side of the island, hidden under the rocks but never silent. Hers. He is hers, it tells her, for her to do what she pleases with him.

 

"Yours," he echoes, reverently, sensing the direction of her thoughts if not hearing them directly. "What happens now?" he asks. Hopeful. Expectant.

 

"I think you know," Rey says, and reaches forward to stroke his cheek.

 

They've never touched like this, in earnest, not in the heat of battle and without the anger or the mistrust that separated them before. Not even the Force, in all its power, managed to replicate the sensation of flesh against flesh through their ethereal bond. Rey lets out a gasp as she cups Ben's face with her hands, relearning his scar and the warmth of his cheeks, the hard angles of his cheekbones, and the way his eyelids flutter when he closes his eyes. His hands reach forward too, but he plays with the hem of her cloak as if he not yet dared to touch her. So she steps closer to him. Ben holds on to her at once, his hands sliding up the back of her legs, and he presses urgent kisses against her, on her thighs, on her belly. She lowers herself to kneel on the grass too, and Ben's kisses trail up her chest, her neck, until he finally captures her mouth with his.

 

It isn't the gentle, tentative kiss they shared that night through their bond. His teeth sink on her bottom lip, drawing just enough pain to have her moan inside his mouth, and she can smell him and taste him and feel the wet softness of his tongue sliding along hers. She wants to touch all of him, hands stroking the muscles of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under her fingers. Rey presses herself against him so eagerly that she knocks them both over, and for a brief, exhilarating moment they roll down on the wet grass of the hill, without a care in the world for the steep incline or the rain that has made it all the more slippery. But when she happens to lean on his arm for balance, Ben lets out a hiss of pain and breaks the kiss. Of course. His injuries. Rey settles herself on his lap, straddling his thighs, and runs an inquiring hand up the sleeve of his left arm. The skin, though repaired, is still red and feverish to the touch. The burned tissue has healed, yes, but not as well as her own. She should have noticed the stiffness of his gait, and how he seemed to favor his right when he touched her.

 

"I suppose I won't be fit to fight anyone any time soon," Ben says, sullenly.

 

"You won't have to." She lowers herself to press their foreheads together.

 

"Won't I?"

 

"No," Rey says. She traces over the soft skin of Ben's neck, and applies a light pressure there, just enough for his eyes to widen with delight. "Never again. Not if I'm with you."

 

Ben thrusts his hips upwards with enough force that he rolls them over again, and he drapes himself on top of Rey. It's... an entirely different sensation, all of his weight on her, pinning her down against the grass, and yet Rey does not feel trapped. He is tall enough to cover her completely and shield her from the rain, but she has to spread her legs to let him snuggle up as close as he intends. Is it raining harder, or is that flash of thunder brought on entirely by the two of them, finally coming together like this? His injured hand strokes Rey's face like she'd done earlier to him, and he runs a slippery finger against her bottom lip, parting it slightly just as he leans down to kiss her again. She wriggles up against him, drawing up her neck slightly and Ben moans and ruts against her as if completely overwhelmed. He opens up his mind to her without warning, surrendering his senses to her, and an overwhelming wave of his excitement crashes over Rey, the intensity of it leaving her bewildered and thirsty.

 

But Ben withdraws from her, both mind and body, when he perceives her surprise, and pulls back to sit up on the grass despite Rey holding on to him to keep him near. He shakes his head. His face is flushed, his cheeks taking on a rosy tint and his mouth a deep red.

 

"The rain... We don't need to do this here. Let's go up. I have a fire going. It will be more comfortable there."

 

"Up? To the Temple, you mean?"

 

"Yes," he says, and offers his hand to help her up.

 

He does not let go of her when she stands, and keeps an arm around her shoulders during the laborious trek uphill. It hinders them both in that it's harder to keep their balance this way, but Rey would not ask him to let go, and in turn holds on to him as much as she can without throwing themselves off the path. (And would it be so bad, she wonders, to knock him down again, and roll on the hill and not mind the rain, or the mud, and get on with it, and let their mouths and hands figure the rest?) Ben steals a glance at her and bites his lip as he guesses her intent, and Rey herself needs to take a few deep breaths that do not calm herself in the least. The tortuous path to the Temple is supposed to be conductive of meditation, of quiet reflection to attain peace, but it seems to have precisely the opposite effect, and Rey's heart is pounding hard when they finally reach the building.

 

The appeal of the fire becomes apparent to her the moment they stumble inside the large cavern that houses the Jedi Temple, its warm glow an immediate relief. Rey moves closer to it as she takes in the rest of the room. It seems this is where Ben has chosen to settle, rather than on the huts down the hill. It strikes her as vaguely disrespectful at first, using the Temple as a habitat, though Luke hadn't shown any particular reverence towards the place. Besides, it isn't as if Ben has been untidy. The walls of the cavern provide plenty of natural nooks in the ruggedness of the rock, for him to stack away his belongings with military meticulousness. Spare clothes, his lightsaber, several blasters, a box of rations. A pile of books, nearly as tall as Rey. And papers – sheets of paper where he's been taking notes with some sort of archaic quill, filling up enough pages to make a bound notebook. She senses that Ben has found a measure of peace here, though she wonders how he manages to. The Light is strong in the Temple, and if she stands still enough Rey knows she'd be able to make out the imprints of the first Jedi here, and of those currently drawn to the energy cluster at the very top of Ahch-To's highest mountain – like a bustling junk yard or a marketplace full of Force presences, crowded yet silent. Maybe Ben likes that.

 

"Your clothes," he says, his gesture towards the fire imperious but his voice unsteady. "Don't keep your wet clothes on, you need to dry them by the fire."

 

He hands her a clean cloth to dry herself, not meeting her gaze.

 

"I was hoping you'd help me with that," Rey says, and lets out a short laugh that betrays her agitation.

 

Although Ben flinches at her suggestion, there is longing in his gaze. He tries to steady himself, to say something in reply, but in the end he only throws the clean cloth away and steps closer to Rey. She wonders what he meant to do about _his_ clothes, in any case: he has discarded Luke's cape and folded it into a neat square by the fire, but his gray tunic, thoroughly soaked, still clings to his body like a second skin. Ben slides one arm around her waist, gently at first as if fearing she will step back, but when she does not he tightens his grip on her. He lifts his other hand, and with trembling fingers he begins to undo the single bun Rey tied her hair in. He then begins fumbling with the laces of her light cloak with the same awkward hesitancy, without looking at her. Is it possible that he isn't aware of how keenly she wants this, how long she's waited for this? Rey opens her mind to him, then, impatient, with the same forcefulness with which he's often shared his thoughts with her, and Ben gasps, eyes wide, at last meeting her gaze and flashing her a sheepish smile.

 

This _does_ strike her as disrespectful, disrobing like this, letting their wet clothes fall to the floor of the Temple in their haste to be rid of them, and standing there in nothing but their underclothes. But when Ben lifts Rey and holds her close against his bare chest she can't bring herself to feel very contrite. He can't carry her far because of his injured arm, but aids himself with the Force to reach one of the nooks of the cavern, where the natural formation of the rock is wide enough for her to sit comfortably. As he unwraps her binder, hands still trembling but eyes full of intent, Rey can't help thinking of when he'd shown her what she looked like to him in the Force: a being of Light, bright and fierce. When he holds her, and when he squeezes her, it's not unlike discovering that she is also made of fire, slowly igniting under his fingertips. Through their open bond, Ben seems to love the echo of that simile.

 

"Show me," he asks, hoarsely. "Tell me what you like."

 

Rey guides his hand down, into her underwear, and shows him to rub like she does when she is alone. It's almost unfair how easily he catches on, their connection allowing him an immediate grasp of what feels good, what feels better, and what makes her lose her mind to become undone with his touch. She's barely aware of it, too fired up already for conscious thought as he speeds up, but she knows he is using the ripples of her pleasure in the Force as a guide. _Unfair?_ he teases, inside her head, _You could always stop me if this isn't going how you'd like_ , and she growls at him and pushes his hand further down to keep it in place. He laughs, then, and continues just as diligently, a scholarliness to his fondling that he makes up for with his eagerness. She gasps when his fingers slide inside of her, and there's a brief, sharp discomfort, but then his tongue –   

 

His mouth –

 

Rey stares down at him, eyes wide, panting, and he locks eyes with her, props her legs around his shoulders, and does not stop teasing and licking until she crests over with a cry.

 

"Oh," she says, breathless, barely managing a grin. "You've _got_ to do that again."

 

"Yes," Ben says, panting too. "Of course."

 

He slides down to the floor of the Temple and pulls at her to sit her on his lap. The taste of _her_ on his lips, mingled with the more familiar taste of blood, surprises her when she kisses him.

 

"Stay like this," he says. "It'll be easier on you."

 

"How would you know?"

 

"I read a book," he mumbles.

 

"A book? What book?"

 

"Just _a_ book. For educational purposes. And the holo that came with it. Can we not talk about this now?" Rey can't help laughing and he glares at her at first, but ends up chuckling too. "I'm sure there are far better uses of our time."

 

The wounds he suffered in his last combat have not all healed, the scars just beginning to form on his chest, on his thighs, giving his body a battered edge that she finds alluring in spite of herself. He rids himself of his underwear, and Rey glances down at him curiously before reaching to touch him. He moans when she strokes him - she can follow the spark of his budding pleasure just as easily as he perceived hers. He slides further down on the floor until he's resting on his back, lips pursed not to whimper, staring up at her in helpless awe. _Who's unfair now_ , she taunts, loving how he becomes more and more flustered with every flick of her wrist. But he still has enough presence of mind to hold her hips and guide her up, until his tip is brushing against her. He's right, this is likely easier on her, but she still winces with shock when he thrusts his hips up and pushes into her. She worries, all of a sudden, that it will not fit, that he is too large, that it will hurt, but she does want this, she's been wanting this since the moment their fingers touched in the Force and –

 

"Rey," Ben says, his voice raspy, and when she meets his gaze she sees he is just as nervous as she is, but he is still attempting to soothe her through their bond, as if nothing, nothing at all, could go wrong when their minds are joined like this.

 

It becomes easier then, to rock her hips slowly and let him ease into her. He makes a choked sound once he slides completely in, his lips slightly parted and his grip on her hips tightening even more. Rey starts moving, tentatively at first, but manages to settle into a rhythm that works for both of them, her pleasure mirroring Ben's with every thrust. There are two realities where this is happening: the physical one, primal, somewhat brutal, perfectly imperfect; and a more abstract one, where both the light and shadows of their beings still duel against each other, and yet mingle.

 

Ben pulls her down for a kiss, sloppy and starved, and then with a hoist of his hips he manages to roll them on the floor. The suddenness of it sends a thrill down Rey's back and she wrestles up against him to try a roll of her own, as if they were fighting each other, and every time one of them lands on their back Ben thrusts into her and draws a cry out of her. She scratches at him, digging her nails into his neck, and Ben lets out a raw, guttural sound and bares his teeth at her. The more she hurts him, the more blood she draws, the more incensed he becomes, his gaze glossy and unfocused as he fucks her in earnest now, sliding deep into her, and this is the Ben she knows and loves, unhinged and hers and out of control.

 

Somewhere, in another dimension, two lights fuse together in a blinding flash of white; the birth of a star, impossibly bright –

 

In the Temple of Ahch-To, atop the mosaic of the Prime Jedi, their bodies quiver at the same time and they both shout out with relief –

 

Balance, at last –

 

They become one, then, alone nevermore.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I was absurdly busy. I hope you like it! Please tell me if you did. Thank you for reading and if you made it this far, please tell me, too!
> 
> For what it's worth, they were supposed to argue a lot more during this chapter, but they really didn't want to.

* * *

 

 

  
As the sunsets approach, Rey turns the navigation pad towards the skies with some impatience: Ben will make his way up soon. Clockwise, counterclockwise, up, down, in any direction, to get a better reading. The meditation rock is the best place on the island to have a clear, unobstructed view of the sky, but the instrument was meant to be used on a ship, not on land, and its effectiveness has suffered from it.

  
"I just can't find it," she says out loud, to the Force being sitting near her. A female Master, who seems to have grown fond of Rey, her presence not visible in the physical world. She wrote one of the Texts Rey brought back with her. An old friend.

  
"In my time," she tells Rey, "we did not need machines to read the stars."

  
That's very nice to know, but it doesn't help Rey in the least. Typical old Jedi Master. She puts the pad down with a sigh. She thought it'd be easier, but after many days at it she has not been able to pinpoint the location of the system she's looking for. She glances down, towards the bay where the Falcon is stationed, and sees that Ben is already making his way up the steps to the Temple.

  
He's been spending the afternoons with Chewie, returning to Rey just before the suns set. She had kept her distance the first few days, their shouts too daunting for her to endure. They went on and on and on, and although Ben could not truly speak Shyriiwook with all the rich vocal inflections of that language, his leftover anger made it sound close enough. She did not want to listen in, the conversation too raw, too intimate. One night, she'd felt Ben crying next to her.

  
_'He's only one left_ ,' he'd told her silently. ' _Because of me. And he'll never forgive me.'_

  
Rey had held him in her arms, and had not asked any questions. They'd stopped shouting eventually. Quieted down. Rey still left them be. She does not think Chewie has forgiven Ben, or if he ever will, but just today, she caught sight of Ben lying against him while he read a book, as if the wookie were an enormous pillow, or the hairiest blanket. Maybe this is as good as it gets.

  
"Why do you need to find this star?" the Master asks, unaware that Rey's thoughts have wandered to Ben and Chewie.

  
"It's ours," she answers, lowering her voice.

  
"The stars belong to no one," the old Jedi says, while Rey is still trying to find words to explain herself.

  
The sound of a book being dropped startles them both as it echoes on the walls of the cavern. Rey's heart skips a little as she looks over her shoulder: Ben has stepped in the Temple, and has placed the book he was reading on top of his tallest pile. The Force ripples towards him, enveloping him eagerly as It recognizes his imprint. The old Master vanishes, but not before Ben is aware of her presence. He glares at the spot next to Rey, eyes narrowed.

  
"Why does she keep doing that?" he asks, sounding genuinely hurt.

  
"She's a gentle being. I think she thinks you... rude, in a way. Loud."

  
"Too dark, you mean." Ben huffs at this. "I suppose I deserve it. I would still like to speak to her, for once. She's the one who wrote Tome XI. I have questions."

  
He walks closer to Rey, blinking as the fading light of the suns hits him in the eyes. He sits next to her on the meditation rock, and leans in to kiss her mouth. She marvels, briefly, at how every kiss feels different. This one is sweet, yet forceful at the same time, and she can _taste_ how much he's missed her in those hours away from her, and how keenly he wants her already. Rey pulls back, a little flustered, before his hands start wandering.

  
"Do you think they can see us?"

  
She's been wondering this, given the unpredictability of the apparitions of the Force beings in the island. Is it more of a window or a one-way mirror? Can they see, if they cannot be seen? Or are they only there when they manifest in the physical world? Are they always watching? Ben's eyes widen when he catches her meaning, and his cheeks flush a deep pink.

  
"Oh," he says, and lets out a short, nervous laugh. "I hope not!"

  
She still isn't used to hearing him laugh. It's happened infrequently enough that she cherishes every time, but even in laughter a lingering sadness clings to Ben. He does not like speaking of his younger self, but he's allowed Rey inside this part of his mind, if she wishes to know. She tries not to intrude, not allowing herself more than a light dip here and there to satisfy her curiosity - it's too desolate in there, at the source of all his darkness. But from her short forays into his past it sounds like he's relearning, or perhaps learning, how to laugh. She's offered her own childhood memories in return, and knows Ben drinks from them freely, many times a day, with a veritable thirst. He seems to derive some nourishment from them - the harshness of her old life on Jakku bringing an odd, perhaps even callous relief to him. And Rey _gets_ it, despite her initial wariness. He's been too centered on his own pain, for far too long. To find that others have suffered as well is met with childlike wonder, perhaps insensitive but not ill-intended.

  
"My grandfather is here on this island. I would not want him to _see_ ," he adds.

  
"Your grandfather? Anakin Skywalker?"

  
"Yes." Ben sounds confused with her surprise. "He welcomed me here when I first landed. Haven't you seen him?"

  
She has not. Perhaps it is fair that she can interact with the brighter beings, and Ben with the shadier ones. Still, she'd have liked to meet him. She has the feeling she's heard him speak to her before.

  
"He said he likes you," Ben adds, sensing some of her disappointment. "He was from a desert planet, just like you."

  
"If you ever see him again, tell him I say hi."

  
Rey slides closer to him on the meditation rock and leans against him. Ben wraps an arm around her, pressing his cheek to the top of her hair as they watch the slow descent of the suns in the horizon. They've done this together every day since Rey landed on Ahch-To, the poignant beauty of the landscape drawing them to this moment even when it rains.

  
"Two Caretakers stopped me on the way up," he says. "They've finished your new tunic. I brought it up with me."

  
"Ugh." Rey makes a face, unable to hide her annoyance. "Of course they wouldn't bring it themselves."

  
"They were going to. But they found me first."

  
"Yes, I'm sure that's all there is." When Ben stares at her, puzzled, she elaborates, "They hate me."

  
"I wonder why," he says, with a wry smile, and shakes his head when Rey rolls her eyes. "Come now, they don't hate you. They're peaceful creatures."

  
"Easy for you to say. I know they call you Master Jedi."

  
She hates how they ( _mistakenly_ ) adopted Ben as Luke's natural successor, unworthy as he is of that honor, and not her. The bitterness of that thought surprises her, and Ben too is startled when their bond cools off as her anger becomes tangible between them. She doesn't bother reining it back. He can bear it.

  
"If you paid any mind to them, you'd know they call _you_ Mistress Jedi," he says, dryly. "They know we are together. They say it's a welcome relief, after Luke. Their own traditions teach that Jedi shouldn't be alone, apparently."

  
She looks away from him, only half mollified. In truth, she has been avoiding the Caretakers this second time around, since she can still feel their disapproval rolling off their beings when she goes near them. That they prefer Ben, politely aloof, is obvious. They made clothes for him, following the sewing patterns for the male of their species. They even made him a hat, but Ben thinks it makes him look silly. That Rey caught him trying it on several times and laughed at him every one of them likely has something to do with it. They offered (through Ben, _of course_ ), to make clothes for her, too. Rey had agreed, under the condition that she would not wear any long robes that would hinder her moves.

  
"You were a bit of a troublemaker when you first arrived, but you've grown on them," he insists. "Give them a chance."

  
"Oh, fine," she concedes, not invested enough to hold on to that grudge. "Besides, neither of us are really Jedi."

  
"No," Ben says. "Not really."

  
"But I'm still closer to one than you."

  
"Well, then. I grant you that dubious distinction, if it matters so much to you."

  
She scoffs at him. The holos and the tales promised happily ever after, but Rey wonders with some impatience if it wasn't _bickering_ ever after, and it was lost in translation. Save for a few quiet moments of contemplation, there is rarely calm between them. Her heart never beats steadily in his presence; it drums a frantic rhythm when she hears his voice, when she feels his hands on her, when she meets his gaze. In the time she's been there, they've argued incessantly - from absurd, mundane quarrels on how to organize their living space (no, ancient Sith texts do not belong in the Temple), or what to eat (Porgs are very much out of the question, at least for Rey), to the harsher, seemingly unsolvable disagreement over the fate of the Galaxy.

  
"He should have done it. Luke," Ben says, his voice hoarse with sudden grief. "That night. He should have killed me. Jedi way or not."

  
It always shocks her how movable his temper is - as unpredictable as the ocean around Ahch-To, one moment lapping the sand calmly, and the next battering the rugged rocks with unspeakable fury.

  
"No," she tells him, forcefully, touching his cheek. "No. He was wrong."

  
"Was he? He'd have spared thousands if he had eliminated me. It was the better course of action."

  
"Your loss then would have doomed the Galaxy in one way or the other."

  
It gained another fallen Skywalker in that scenario: Luke would have fallen if he had killed Ben, the descent into darkness spectacular and irreversible. Rey has a vague intuition that he could have been far, far worse than Kylo Ren. But she hardly knew him, after all. She only has the Force whispers, and they are unclear. She glances at Ben. At times like this, when the fading light of the suns reflects on his dark eyes, a hint of yellow still lingers on his irises, dreadsome, and yet alluring.

  
"I was lost either way," Ben says.

  
"You're not lost," Rey says, and reaches for his hand. "You're with me."

  
He squeezes her hand back, but also leans closer to press their foreheads together. Rey's breath hitches at once, overwhelmed so easily by his scent, by the warmth of his face against hers, and by the brief spark as their Force imprints meet where their energies are at their brightest.

  
"But for how long?" he says, coldly rather than plaintively, and curse him, it's very hard to argue with him when he is so near her like this. "You've been wanting to leave since you landed here."

  
He looks to the side at the navigation pad that Rey put away when he arrived, but only briefly, his gaze never straying too long from hers. She puts a hand flat on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her fingertips.

  
"Aren't you curious? I know you felt it too, that day. The first day we..."

  
She trails off, suddenly shy about this. It's possible she interpreted wrong what she felt in the Force when they were first joined. She thought she saw the birth a star, brief and bright.

  
"I felt _something_ ," Ben admits. "But that... _that_ isn't how stars are formed. I'm not sure anyone has that kind of power. I'd be rather afraid to find that we do."

  
"I'm not afraid," she says. "And I will find it. But we can't stay here forever, anyway."

  
"Why not? I like it here. I am..." The word catches in his throat, too foreign for him, "happy."

  
The effort it took him to arrive at this conclusion rolls off on her from his mind - and it pains her to have to contradict him. That is the greatest pitfall of being tethered like this to him, that if Rey does not stand her ground she might be absorbed by him, and become a single, disastrous non-entity that would never move forward, never change, never evolve.

  
"You and me, Chewie, a handful of porgs, and the Caretakers? That is no way to live," she forces herself to say. "We need people. We need others. I was alone on Jakku for so long, Ben."

  
"There will be others. The children I saw. They will come, too."

  
It silences Rey. He's shared his vision with her again, dozens of children speaking to them, following them, demanding their attention. Children from all species, alien in appearance, but strong in the Force. The vision has become dear to her now that it may, in fact, be possible one day. Their hands are still joined, and they are staring at each other. She cannot tear her gaze from his.

  
"No child should be alone like you were, Rey," he says, with fire in his voice. "Like I was. Wondering what is wrong with them, and why no one understands. If I ever leave this island, it will be to find them, and bring them back here."

  
Snoke's hideous face startles Rey before she understands that Ben is trying to show her one of the sinister plans that he hadn't had the skill or the patience to complete: scour Force-sensitive children from across the Galaxy and turn them into something monstrous. The Knights of Ren. The idea is seared deep into Ben's psyche, but for once, it isn't a dark, twisted horror. He will not corrupt them. He wants to _help_. Rey grabs his face in her hands and kisses him on the lips, revelling in the Hope that flickers in his heart. He kisses her back softly, reverently.

  
"We'll find them too," she tells him. "All of them. But we'll need a lot more room for them."

  
That does give Ben pause. She sees him scanning the island from their high vantage point, eyeing the terrain critically. Very little does grow on the island, save from a handful of herbs that the Caretakers grow near their village. The terrain is fertile, as far as Rey can guess from the perpetually green hills - and from the vine that she brought from Ahuen, in full bloom now over the burned Tree where the Texts were housed. But could they grow grains? Enough to keep dozens of children fed? Would they have to eat the porgs? What does she know? She's a desert girl. Anything that isn't rations is a feast.

  
"Fine," he relents. "But I'm not going where your friends are."

  
The disdain with which he says 'friends' pains Rey so much she closes her eyes briefly. They'll never agree on this, it seems. She feels an old irritation rising inside her, simmering dangerously close to the surface.

  
"I wasn't saying we go there. But I promised them I'd return. I promised them I'd help."

  
"How do you imagine you can help them? The remnant of my mother's militia, with ill-defined ideologies and scarce supporters in the Galaxy? Their heart might be in the right place, but their goals for galactic domination are deluded and ridiculous."

  
"It was never about domination," she says, through gritted teeth. "It was about peace. And I will help them in any way that I can, because I care for them, and they are my friends."

  
Ben scoffs at her and shakes his head.

  
"I've read the Texts too, you know," she adds. "The Jedi... Us Force users are meant to be guardians of the peace."

  
"Guardians of the Force," he corrects. "That is what we are to pledge ourselves to. Not a government, not a militia, not a political body. We are meant to inspire, not to meddle."

  
"So what will it be, Ben? Isolate ourselves, removed from the real world and people's suffering? Meditate injustice away? Sit at a desk scribbling annotations on ancient manuscripts?"

  
A flicker of hurt in his eyes - he looks away from her. She added that last question to hurt him, but when the barb hits its mark she does not find it satisfying in the least. He's been writing for days, filling three notebooks already. She should not begrudge him for doing what he loves. But she does wish he returned the courtesy.

  
"Ben," she says, regretting it at once.

  
"I would!" he snaps, glaring at her. "I would sit down and _scribble_. I would do it so that others may understand as well."

  
"I know you would. That isn't what I meant."

  
"I'd rather do that than run around like headless poultry across the Galaxy trying to help unworthy ones."

  
If he meant to hurt her in return, it worked. Rey turns away from him, and there isn't enough room on the meditation rock to be annoyed at each other without touching excessively.

  
"Unworthy ones!" she says, and stands to get away from him. "You're lucky I didn't think you unworthy when I went to rescue you from Snoke, like a fool!"

  
She has time to see regret cross over his eyes before she marches away towards the Temple. He jumps down from the rock and runs after her, catching up with her in two steps. He tries to hold her arm, but she snatches it away from him.

  
"Rey," he says, or rather, _pleads_ , with the same waver in his voice that he had in the Throne Room, and that she finds so hard to resist. "Don't leave. Don't leave me."

  
"Then be nicer."

  
He purses his lips and clenches his jaw, visibly struggling.

  
"I will. I'll try. I'm not... very good at this."

  
"At being nice?"

  
"At any of this."

  
He makes a vague gesture between them, but wide enough to include the Temple, and the island, and perhaps the rest of the universe. Rey still glares at him.

  
"I fought Luke for you. Right here." Her gaze wanders down the hill where she'd followed him. Where she'd shouted at him. Where she'd drawn his own saber on him. She'd been so cold that night, drenched to the bone by the incessant rain.

  
"What?" Ben says, wide-eyed.

  
He's staring at her as if she offered him the strangest, yet the most precious artifact on the island, and he didn't quite know what to do with it. It's... not an unpleasant feeling, being the recipient of such raw adoration. When he moves to hold her, she allows him, and steps closer to him.

  
"I was so angry at him. For what he'd done to you. For lying to me. So we fought. Or I fought, rather. That's how _unworthy_ I found you."

  
He flinches at this, and though there is a hint of tears in his eyes, he is also smiling - a sad, sorrowful smile.

  
"I didn't mean that," his tone clipped and awkward, but not artificial. "Of course no one you care about is unworthy. Sorry."

  
"No one is unworthy to me. Ever."

  
He looks puzzled now, as if genuinely not understanding. Rey wonders if she should hammer  on that she just wants to help anyone in need, that she'd do anything for them, that she has so much to give - perhaps because nothing was ever given to her. She bites her bottom lip, afraid of hearing 'naive' in Ben's thoughts. But his mind is quiet, save for the effort to understand why she thinks that way. Maybe he simply cannot comprehend it. She wonders if she should apologize to him too.

  
"Maybe it doesn't have to be one or the other," he says, at last. "Studying the Texts removed from everyone, or helping others. You can do one, and I'll do the other." She considers this, and he goes on, "I won't be welcome anywhere, Rey. Not even with your friends, despite what your heart desires. They will want to put me on trial, or imprison me, or execute me. If you want me... alive, with you," he says, and his marked hesitation is both endearing and pitiful, "then it would be best if I made myself scarce. If I promised to stay away from it all. If I never used my powers again."

  
"Of course I want you with me," Rey tells him, and slides her arms around his neck to pull him down to her and press their foreheads together - the contact she likes best. "But you will use  your powers. To teach others not to make the same mistakes."

  
"Mistakes will be made again, but in time, they too will be corrected. Such is the way of the Force."

  
Somehow it does not feel as fatalistic as it sounds. She isn't sure she believes as blindly that the Force is capable of balancing Itself (it had, after all, taken them absurdly long to be able to stand like this, locked in an embrace instead of at odds, and it has bled dry three generations of Ben's family), but if one of the two believes it might just be enough. Ben presses a light kiss to her lips.

  
"Come sit with me. Watch the sunset with me. Let's find your star."

  
She lets herself be guided back to the meditation rock, and sits between his long legs, spread wide enough to fit her. He is running his hands all over her, caressing her  arms, her waist. She tries not to mind that, but his fingertips do have that  infuriating ability to make her lose her calm. The suns have taken on a crimson hue, and have started dipping into the ocean, far in the horizon. Not much longer until they disappear. Rey reaches for the navigation pad, but Ben stays her hand.

  
"No. Use the Force."

  
"You're just like that old Master. What do you think I've been doing? The Force doesn't help."

  
"Then how do you know where to start looking?"

  
"I don't," she says.

  
She shows him how she's been trying to get a reading. Hundreds of known systems appear in the pad every time she moves it, and she may press any of the names to find out how old the star is, and what planets are habitable in it. A tedious process. Ben shakes his head.

  
"We'll be here for fifty years if that is how you search."

  
"Well, do you have a better idea?"

  
"Maybe I need to make love to you again for you to see it."

  
He flashes her an oblique smirk, and he's suddenly very close to her, nose to nose, and his hand dips a little into the neckline of her tunic, enough to caress the soft skin where her breast begins.

  
"Wouldn't you love that," Rey teases, and smirks back at him.

  
"I _would_. Right now, in fact."

  
She lets him play with a nipple, enough to fire her up, but stops him from opening her shirt too much, and puts the navigation pad between then. He makes a displeased sound, and tries to insist (he's very persistent, and steals a few gasps out of Rey), but gives in when he sees she is serious about it.

  
"Show me," he says, but keeps his arms around her.

  
She opens her mind to him to share the memory, and realizes, a little too late, that replaying such an intimate memory can only reawaken not just the vision, but also the physical arousal, and the emotions she felt then. She flusters at once, and squirms to relieve the tingling between her legs. Ben's breath hitches.

  
"So this what it felt like for you?" he murmurs.

  
"Focus, please," she chides him, before he is tempted to show whatever it is that he felt then. He grumbles, but does study the star in her vision with marked interest.

  
"That looked like the proximity of Alpha-Aplois," he says, and punches in some coordinates into the pad before handing it back to her. It blinks in the direction she is to aim the map. "Try there."

  
Rey does try, eagerly at first, but none of the stars on the screen are as young as theirs would need to be. Alpha-Aplois seems to be a very old cluster. The youngest star is three million years old. She side-eyes Ben, full of suspicion.

  
"Did you... purposely give me some nonsense coordinates?"

  
"I might have," he admits, and crushes a brief kiss to her lips. "I think my idea is better. Worth a try?"

  
She does _not_ , in fact, think his idea is better, but she is very interested in the things his tongue is doing to her lips, and the way both his hand are cupping her breasts right now. So she kisses him back, and where he was tentative she is fierce, tasting him, savoring him, never having enough of him. But she whips away from him when she hears the sound of fabric being ripped. She gasps in outrage: Ben has torn her old shirt in two with enough force to leave but two rags hanging from her shoulders. She slaps him over the head.

  
"Hey! I like this outfit!"

  
"Not very sorry, I'm afraid," Ben mumbles.

  
He takes her nipple into his mouth, sucking at it hungrily, and presses his other hand between her legs. Impatient. Rey Force-stuns him to make her displeasure known, and he's too distracted to resist it completely, blinking in confusion but still playing with her breasts.

  
"Is this your idea of _making love_ to me? It won't get you very far."

  
"Oh, I think it will. Remember the cave? That's what you like best, isn't it?"

  
The mere mention of it draws makes Rey's heart jump. They'd discovered it entirely by chance, on their second day together. The negative energy in that lower part of the island seemed to feed off on their latent antagonism, and if what they did on the Temple floor the first day had been closer to lovemaking, in the dark cave it had veered into downright mating, both of them uninhibited enough to let their passion flare out of control. Rey loved it, and she knows Ben did too. He still has bruises on his bicep where she bit him - she runs her finger over them, and he shivers under her touch. When he looks at her like this, dark with intent, it's very hard to argue back. Still, she won't let him rush through this, and does not break the hold on his mind. It likely is entirely _wrong_ to use the Force like this on someone, but Rey can't get enough of overpowering him, and of directing his every move for her own pleasure. He can do nothing but obey, his mouth on her breasts and his fingers on her cunt. She'd never dare to do this to anyone but Ben, because she knows he could fight back if he truly wanted - and she has the notion he wouldn't let anyone else do it to him either.

  
Only when she's had her way with him, stripping him bare with little resistance, does she let go of his mind, and he growls at her as he comes back to his senses - with the furious, frantic energy of an animal kept in a cage for unfairly long. He tears off the rest of her clothes as he kisses her, hard enough to draw some blood when he bites her lips. He grabs at her to bend her over the meditation rock - and they keep using the sacred places of Ahch-To for entirely the wrong reasons, don't they, but it's just at the right height, and Rey lets out a strangled cry when he enters her from behind.

  
"Ben," she gasps.

  
It's not quite like it was in the dark cave (nothing, perhaps, will ever be like that), but it's as close as it can be, with Ben's arm on her back keeping her flat against the rock, unable to move, and his other arm snaking against her waist as his fingers tease and tease to match his thrusts into her. The star. They were doing this to find the star, but Rey finds she can think of little else than their own, selfish pleasure, hers and Ben's, that she can perceive easily and use to heighten her own. The suns on the horizon blur in her line of sight, become unfocused. According to some inscriptions Ben found at the base of the Temple, the position of the rock lies at a perfectly harmonious angle with the orbit of the planet, and it does seem, as the twin discs sink into the ocean, that the universe lets out a peaceful exhale with the last rays, that they both echo with a low, guttural groan.

  
They still need a moment to recover, holding each other as they sit at the base of the meditation rock. Ben's quick breaths match her own as he calms down, and he's always at his mellowest after sex, kissing Rey all over, petting her hair, and murmuring nonsense against her ear. She knows he's in there in her mind, snooping around now that she is too overwhelmed to shoo him off, but she's grown so fond of the soft touch of his imprint that she welcomes it. She reaches for the map, driven by a sudden inspiration, and turns it straight upwards, towards the zenith of the island. Ten systems appear on the screen, and at the center of them all, a bright young star, not two weeks old. The star from her vision. Rey gasps.

  
"Told you it would work," Ben says, against her ear, but instead of smug he sounds rather amazed.

  
He reaches around her and touches the screen to get more information, but the system is too new to have any downloadable information. It will need to be explored. But from the very basic readings, seven planets orbit the new star, three of which seem habitable, and perhaps two more moons as well.

  
"This can't have happened," he says, still staring at the screen. "A stellar system this young should not have planets in orbit. There must be a mistake in the reading."

  
"Didn't you say that this is not how stars were formed? That we could not have done this?"

  
"It isn't. We couldn't have."

  
And yet, there it is. Their stellar system: anomalous, inexplicable. Unexpected. Rey has no need for a more thorough justification of the physics behind its formation, but she knows Ben does, and lets him poke at the map to try to understand. She smiles when she perceives curiosity rising in him: if he was reluctant to leave the island before, he is likely eager to explore the vicinity of that star now. Something has awakened inside of him, kindling his gaze with newfound purpose. He glances up at her, and smiles.

  
"I love you."

  
It takes Rey by surprise - not the sentiment (she's been in Ben's head for far too long not to know that he loves her), but the suddenness of it. She thought he was still studying the star when she felt the shift in his emotions, making plans for a future voyage there maybe, but this? This?

  
"Oh," she says, stammering a little. "Me too. I love you too."

  
"The star is all you. I don't think I had anything to do with it."

  
"Of course you did. We both did."

  
"No," he insists. "I destroy things. I don't heal them or create them. I can't. It's always been like this, for me."

  
Rey leans closer to him, and strokes his arm. "Is it really so hard to believe for you that we can do great things together, beyond what our individual talents are?"

  
He stares at her hand, and covers it with his own, lacing their fingers together.

  
"No," he says. "I _am_ at my greatest when I'm with you, and I'm not... I don't mean great in the Force. There's this... sense of peace when we are together. Of... balance?" She nods, grinning at him as he makes his laborious way through what he wants to say. "Not long ago I asked you to join me. I did mean it, then. But I think I was asking you for all the wrong reasons. Let me join you, Rey. Let me follow you. Let me share your greatness. Please. I can't imagine going back to being alone, without you."

  
"You'll never have to," she tells him. "Nothing will keep me away from you. Not even _you_."

  
He laughs with her, and brings her hand to his lips to press a kiss to it. If Ben had doubts about them doing great things together, Rey wonders, in turn, if they are allowed to be this happy at all. Few will extend him the same forgiveness that she has - and why would they? A day may come when he has to answer for his past crimes. What, then? Run, hide? Face them? Or perhaps, just perhaps, this new Galactic order that she is to help construct might finally bring the long-awaited peace. And they, together, might restore the Force to its natural state.

  
Now that Ben has ripped her shirt in two, she must wear the new clothes the Caretakers made for her, laid out for her at the Temple. They fit Rey just right, the tunic stopping at mid-thigh to ease her moves. The fabric is the same color as the Caretakers' own garb, off-white. Like Jedi robes. Ben's, in turn, are a darker color, nearly black. It can't be a coincidence. The Caretakers have dwelled on this island for millennia, arriving shortly after the start of the Order, and shaping their own customs after those of their Masters. The Prime Jedi mosaic, on the floor of the Temple, wears these two colors as well, split down the middle to symbolize balance. Rey stands next to it, staring down as she straightens her new tunic. They included a hooded cap that rather looks like a veil, and she turns it in her hands, hesitating. Never mind the Caretakers' sense of fashion, it's something a bride in a holo would wear. Rey would look too silly. She twists her hair up into her usual loose bun, and next to her, Ben must have caught an echo of her thoughts because his cheeks have turned a little pink.

  
"I _would_ , you know," she says, meaning to tease, but her face suddenly feels very warm, and her voice isn't as steady. "Be your bride. But I'd never wear this."

  
"I could wear my own stupid hat," he teases back, though his voice is strained too. He takes both her hands.

  
"I wouldn't know what to say."

  
"We don't need to do anything," he says.

  
And they do not, do they? Nothing they could say or promise would ever surpass the intangible bond that links them together in the Force. Unbreakable. At their feet, the Jedi Prime, perfectly symmetrical, seems to smile at them. An old murmur, or a memory perhaps, seems to echo around the Temple. A rhyme, or a song. If Rey closes her eyes, she can make out the words, said in a tongue she's never spoken.

  
_Light. Dark._  
_Anger. Peace._  
_I am one. I am two._  
_We are balanced._

  
Ben squeezes her hands, as if hearing it too. When she opens her eyes, he is still staring down at the mosaic, but now with a slight frown.

  
"I cannot be a Jedi," he says, his voice thick with regret. "Not the way they understood it."

  
"We can follow the Jedi, but learn from their failings."

  
He glances at her. "And we can learn from the Sith, but we will not follow them," he completes. "So what does that make us?"

  
"Skywalkers, maybe."

  
With the Force as their guide as they walk across the skies. Skywalkers. Rey likes the ring of it. Next to her, Ben can only smile.

 

 

 


End file.
